


The Boxer

by Kinshula



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Asexual-aromantic Pidge, Bamf Pidge, Chapter and Fic title are all songs, Combat, F/M, Fighting, Foundations of a queerplatonic relationship, Season 4 is going to destroy the plausability of this story we all know it is, Takes off from Season 3, The person who tells me the artists gets a cookie, Violence, but let's pretend, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-10 22:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 81,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12309138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinshula/pseuds/Kinshula
Summary: Captured by Prince Lotor after crashing on a remote planet, Pidge must struggle to survive.





	1. Gone Gone Gone

**Author's Note:**

> The entire first act and part of the second act has already been posted on my tumblr. You can find the link to that in my profile and the fic is under the same name. However, to keep AO3 from burying this fan fiction, I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's caught up with the fic on tumblr.

Green hit planet side at 30 kilometers a second and bounced. Pidge, tossed from her seat, hit the windshield hard. She didn’t have time to process before Green tilted over axis and landed heavy on her flank. Pidge fell to the port wall her back smacking into the dashboard and jarring her.

Her breath came in hard, heavy gasps, the armor too tight around her chest and the pain coming in a dull ache. Injured ribs. She leaned her head back, bracing her foot against a dashboard, and closed her eyes. She took the three deepest breaths she could manage. It did little but gain control of the shake of fear and nerves that racked her.

“Later,” Pidge told herself, sitting up again, “Later.”

On the windshield the red error light flashed, the only light in the otherwise dead cockpit. In the back of her mind, Green was silent, not even a groan of mutual pain. She could imagine what was wrong with her lion but the deafening in her head was telling.

Through the windshield Pidge watched a ship break the atmosphere. The ship Lotor used to shoot her down in low-orbit. Pidge stood and pressed her shoulder against the wall –once the floor– to watch the fighter’s wings orient upwards for a landing. Not a bombing run to finish the job, so, he wanted her alive. She had that going for her.

She forced the bottom hatch of the lion open to escape into the bay. She crawled through the doors only to find that the entire starboard wall had collapsed. Pidge swore under her breath as her fingers scraped against the bay door. Automatic locking protocol. Pidge activated her bayard and cut through it. She braced her back against the port wall, mustered all her strength, and kicked the door open. She stumbled out of the lion.

She had seen it in the bay, the crumpled metal. The starboard flank had been ripped open, hitting an old weakness from battles past. It was a lucky shot on Lotor’s part, and then hitting the planet, a nail in a coffin. Pidge could fix it, she had fixed worse dents on Yellow. Here though, she didn’t even have close to the tool or equipment to solve it. She had ten minutes before Lotor landed, there were bigger fish to fry.

She had two options. Stay with Green, or find cover elsewhere. Staying with green was like putting a pendant on her head and saying, “Here, I am!” Even with the shield, he could still capture the lion and her in it. Her foot speed with her ribs and injuries wasn’t going to be fast enough. The planet was barren, no plant or animal life to hide her heat signature. Tracking her would be too easy and the terrain was too rugged for the speeder. Pidge came to her conclusion easy and fast.

She walked out from the lion. There was a comfy looking rock outcrop about twenty feet out and she set herself on it. While waiting for Lotor to land she pulled the first aid kit from her left hip pouch. In the kit she found a small set for a syringe filled with a drug called sindolrin. It was Altean ibuprofen and it punched hard. It inhibited prostaglandins to block pain but also excited the brain, an effective mental kick in the pants. It clotted the blood around wounds, enhanced the healing process, and worked as an antibiotic. Pidge had only used it once before.

She was under fire, alone in a full alert Galra facility. A round had punctured her suit over the left kidney. In a few minutes after the dose, the pain was gone, and the wound clotted. She had the energy to pick up her bayard, and start the long fight out. Crashing off the high eight hours later was hell itself. That was a risk she would take. The most important thing Pidge could do right now was not signal the extant of her injuries to Lotor.

She screwed the needle to the syringe and as she did then, she found the emergency injection port in her soft suit. She inserted the needle and compressed the syringe. She hissed against the sting. Pidge removed the needle, tossed it aside and put the syringe back in the kit. She had it rolled back up in the first aid kit in her pouch by the time Lotor’s ship landed five hundred yards out from her position.

Her situation was shit here, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t change. When she had the material, the strength, and the preparedness, she could take control. The only thing this plan required of Pidge was an unwillingness to hesitate. When her chance came, she could not back down or shy away. Instead she would have to ride the wave all the way to shore, fearless. If the tsunami was coming, might as well grab a surfboard.

Lotor wasn’t piloting a fighter, it was a frigate class armament ship. A frigate would have the fire power to punch a hole in green with a good shot. She wondered if Lotor got lucky or if he was just that good. Engaging a lion on his own, even one on tactical retreat from scouting an outpost was a ballsy move. He had pinned her against the planet and the two moons. Then flanked her with his superior speed, and the rest was history.

Flanking. Speed. Movement. His primary tactics. Light, fast, never full committed to one option, always feeling for the next best plan. She had seen him fight, he stayed centered, evasive. He used his assets well. She wasn’t scared of him though. All strategies had holes, all plans had weaknesses, she needed only find his.

The frigate’s ramp lowered. Lotor, in full armor walked down it, she had seen him enough to know the symbols on his purple armor. Pidge’s eyes narrowed when she saw the four generals behind him, Zethrid, Ezor, Axca, Narti. They strode towards her, wary, but confident, she was outnumbered and outgunned. They knew it, and they assumed she knew it. They were not wrong.

“Prince Lotor,” Pidge called out. “Pleasant weather we’re having. Or not, I don’t think this planet has much of an atmosphere beside hydrogen, helium, and oxygen.”

“That sass is famous,” Lotor answered.

“Free too.”

“Is this a surrender paladin?” Lotor asked, glancing behind her at the lion. “Or is there a few tricks I have to deal with first?”

“No tricks,” Pidge said. “You busted the hell out of my lion, we’re in the ass crack of the galaxy, I’m out-numbered, and I can’t contact back-up. So yeah, I surrender.”

She couldn’t see his face behind his helmet but she could just feel the aura of mistrust radiating off of him.

“Is there a problem?” She asked

“So generous,” he said, his voice a low purr. “I don’t think we’ve been acquainted before, not really.”

She jumped off the outcrop, the medicine was starting to kick, the pain was a dull register at the back of her brain. The generals moved to surround her as she approached. Her hands itched for her bayard, she could put it through his face mask before they killed her. No, that would come later. She would bring his head on a platter to Allura.

She raised her hands, slow, so they were even with her shoulders. Even with the shotgun blast of miracle drug, she had to be careful. Without the pain she had no litmus for when she was exaggerating the injuries.

“You can call me Pidge,” she said.

“How curious,” Lotor said. “If you’re worried about how I’ll treat you, I’ll tell you this, I’m not a brute, Pidge. In fact should you cooperate and play nice, you can be my honored guest.” He began to turn away but glanced over his shoulder at her, “If you’re willing to follow me.”

She dropped her hands, “Lead the way.”

The medicine let her follow Lotor to his ship and kept her focused as Ezor stripped her of her armor in the cargo bay. Pidge pressed the latch for her helmet and pulled it off. She breathed in the clean air of the frigate, feeling the engines sing underneath them as it prepared for take off.

“Wow, you’re really cute!” Ezor said, blinking at her, she leaned forward to look Pidge in the face. “You’re so small! Like a kitten!”

Pidge ran her hair through her hair to flatten it. In the past few years she had let it grow to mid-back length but when it had interfered with the seal of her helmet when she was spaced six months ago, she had cut it. This time she didn’t just cut it, she shaved it to a quarter buzz. It had since grown to a healthy inch that stuck up in odd curls and waves. The cowlick on the back of her head made it took like she was a bird of paradise with weird feathers.

Pidge looked up and glared at Ezor, “So what’s your deal? Do you act cute to be disarming or is that how you really are?”

Ezor pouted, leaning back with her hands clasped behind her back. It was just them in the cargo bay and it was not a big bay, crowded even. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“You earned your position with Lotor and I’ve seen a few of your tricks,” Pidge said.

Ezor pulled back for a second and then handed Pidge a jacket.

“It’s cold!” She exclaimed, ignoring Pidge’s comment.

Pidge looked at the garment, a purple officer uniform. The formal one the generals wore to fancy events where armor was inappropriate. Beggars can’t be choosers. She shrugged it on. It was so large the coat ended at her knees and she rolled up the sleeves as Ezor led her into the elevator leading to the rest of ship.

Ezor could talk about anything, and she did. She talked so fast and so much at Pidge, Pidge couldn’t register a word of it. Escaping the elevator was a boon. Pidge strode out first and stepped out onto the bridge of the ship. The command post was underneath the entry platform and she could see the top of Lotor’s head as he turned to glance at her from his seat. His position let him see the whole bridge, but ironically not the entrance to it, a design error in Pidge’s mind.

The generals were at their positions at the dashboards. Axca was looking over a projected map of the system. They all turned to stare at her as she walked to the edge of the platform, eyeing all the technology and taking notes. Pidge looked down at Lotor and then quietly walked down the steps to stand before him.

“Should I bow?” Pidge asked. “Kneel? I’m not clear on the protocol.”

“Are you a citizen of the Galra empire?” Lotor asked, glancing at her. His eyes trailed over her face and then down the length of her body. Even the jacket wasn’t any protection from his piercing stare which seemed to undress her. Not just the jacket and suit, but also peeling away her skin, and heart, to see into her very nature. Pidge stared right back but found that she couldn’t unveil any further then the armor.

“No,” she said.

“Then you don’t have to,” he said, and turned back to look at the bridge but there was a smile on his lips. He glanced back at her and his gaze was much softer, as if he was happy that she was still there. “Pidge, what an odd name.”

“It’s mine,” she said and that was true.

For years that was what her friends and family called her in but the most intimate of moments. When Mom was mad, when Dad left for Kerberos, when Matt wanted to stop the dumb siblings teasing moments for something more serious. She was Pidge as she was Katie, and that was why she took it to the garrison.

It occurred to Pidge in that moment, that no one but Shiro actually knew her name and he never called her by it. She would kill to hear someone, anyone, say, “Katie,” to her.

“I have to ask,” she said. “Why were you in the system, the outpost out here is hardly significant and the colony world is a Galra ally, not controlled.”

“And who do you think negotiated that partnership?” Lotor asked. “I was here on business, capturing a lion and it’s paladin was an added bonus.”

“Then I got unlucky,” Pidge chuckled.

“Why this outpost?” Lotor asked.

“It’s a communications node,” Pidge said. “Radio signals are captured and passed at communication nodes. Signals that typically include communications between Galra commanders. Why was I there? Not to mention it’s the Galra military base for the system, it was a good place to check out. Don’t worry Lotor, we’re not looking to start action in Lina yet, it’s too small of a target to divert resources to.”

“Have you ever been to Lina?” Lotor asked.

“No,” Pidge said. “Although I hear the planet is quite beautiful and is bit of a tourist trap, despite how out of the way it is. Not many material resources.”

“We’ll be in sight of the planet in ten minutes,” Lotor said. “You can see for yourself then, Unless Axca’s calculations are wrong.”

“I’m usually not, sir,” Acxa said, not looking up from the map.

“She’s usually not,” Lotor repeated to Pidge.

“You mentioned you were on business?” Pidge asked.

“Business,” Lotor repeated to himself with a chuckle. “You can call it business, but really it’s just showing up and looking pretty so all the important people on the planet think you care about their problems.”

“It’s nice to know,” Pidge said. “That some problems are universal. Allura calls those ‘diplomatic meetings,’ I find that if you eat a lot of food you can forget how bored out of your skull you are. So what are you going to do with me?”

“You’re going to help me avoid being bored out of my skull,” Lotor said, then paused. “That’s a strange expression. How can you be 'out of your skull’?”

“Like out of your mind,” Pidge said. “I like to think of it as being so bored that you have an out of body experience.”

“I like to do that when Axca won’t stop lecturing during meetings,” Ezor pipped up. “Like I’m floating off.”

“I just start thinking about weapons schematics and I’m not bored,” Zethrid grunted.

“That just means you’re not paying attention,” Acxa snapped.

“I’m paying attention to the things that matter!” Zethrid defended. “My weaponry! Not how many seconds too long our showers are.”

“I’m just trying to make us efficient,” Axca growled.

“Ladies,” Lotor said. “We have a guest.”

“My lord are you sure bringing her along is wise?” Acxa asked. “We can leave her at the outpost and let Hadron handle her.”

Lotor’s eyes flicked up to Pidge. “She would run circle around Hadron. Acxa, I think you two could get along given the chance.”

“You could always just buy me a ticket for a transport off world,” Pidge said. “That seems like a good idea to me and you would be rid of me. If you don’t like me so much.”

Lotor laughed, it rolled out of his chest and the was closest she had seen him to breaking the stoic reservation he had been holding. For the first time she really looked at him. He had a straight nose and thin lips, with a narrow but defined jaw. Tall, lanky, she knew that already but his skin was a deep shade of purple. His white hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, it curled like Allura’s but was more fine. Most striking was the blue iris and yellow sclera of his eyes. It made him look like a junky.

She was the first one of the paladins to see him face-to-face. She had always imagined him with fangs and weird spikes sticking out at odd places. Maybe he looked like Zarkon, scared up and ugly. Actually, he was almost normal looking, handsome even At a glance she could not tell that he was supposed to be the bad guy. That was just a sign of the complexity of the situation was though. Pidge shouldn’t be surprised that he wasn’t just a two note child’s cartoon villain.

In the viewport appeared Lina, a white, blue, and green marble in the black expanse of space. All planet’s were lovely, each unique and promising. Lina was no different. It promised many things to Pidge, including a new chance to start the day over. There were also so many things she did not know or understand about the planet. There was much she stood to learn.

Yet, Pidge found that she was not afraid.


	2. Blue Collar Man

The medicine wore off just as Acxa let her into the apartment. The moment the door shut the ting of pain at the back of Pidge’s head went from a whisper to a full roar. It drowned out any other thought. She didn’t have time to take in the apartment, only stumble to the nearest piece of furniture and collapse against it.

The withdrawal came in waves and forced her entire nervous system to recalibrate itself after hours of taking a break. The only way Pidge could describe it was as a tiny man with a hammer was trying to dig his way out from inside her skull. Her ears rung, her fingers and toes tingled then turned numb, her ribs compressed with pain, her vision shrunk to a pinhole, and her breath came hard, fast, and her heart slammed against her chest like a trapped bird.

Pidge didn’t just think that she was going to die, she was pretty sure she did. Not the medical condition where her heart stops and cells start perishing but there was a point in the process, right around the peak of it, when she figured it would be better to be dead then doing whatever this was. Slowly though, it pulled off, her body began to sense the pain as it should and the agony eased. Her vision opened back up and her panic attack faded to just a dull sense of malcontent.

She was on a couch. That was a good start for her. She rolled off the couch and fell to the floor. Pidge groaned as her ribs were jarred and she pressed her hand against the cushion to push herself back up. She wandered into a bedroom, her legs shaky underneath her as she pushed from wall-to-wall, furniture-to-furniture, using anything she could get her hands onto to support her. She found the bathroom and desperately fiddled with the shower controls till hot water streamed out of the head.

She yanked off her jacket and struggled out of her suit. For a moment in the mirror she took in her body. A huge brown and yellow bruise bloomed on both her sides. It was ugly and bad, there wasn’t much to be said.

She collapsed into the shower. The hot water eased the tense muscles, refocused her, and reigned in the anxiety. She turned the water so hot that it turned her skin a flushed shade of pink and the water burned as it rolled down her legs.

Pidge had no idea how long she was in there. Just that at some point she turned the water to freezing cold and suffered through that until her teeth rattled. She turned off the water and slid out of the tub.

Pidge pressed her palm against the edge of the counter and caught her breath. She then puked in the toliet, but she hadn’t eaten anything in almost fifteen hours, so the only thing that came out was stomach acid that burned her nose and throat. She drank from the sink to ease the pain. Pidge took a second look at herself.

The bruises were bad, but a little exploration with her fingers made her guess that the ribs weren’t broken but just fractured. Without the under suit or armor applying pressure, they didn’t hurt as bad as they had. She also imagined that the sindolrin was helping mend the bones back together already. She checked the rest of her, except for some small scratches and other odds and ends bumps, she was fine. Just fine.

Until, as Pidge twisted in the mirror, something black on the back of her neck caught her eye. She could’ve mistaken it for a mole but curiosity led her to sit on the counter and turn so she could view it. It was a tiny little chip, planted right between her shoulder blades. When the hell had they?

When they landed a soldier from Lina had searched her, patted her down. Then pinched her on the neck, she had yelped but thought nothing of it and said no complaint. Now she saw that there was more to it. She had only one guess as to what it was and that was a tracking chip, in fact she had seen them before.

She had seen it on slaves, not-Galra work camp slaves, but independently owned household slaves. Lina was a slave planet, in fact it was a common destination for slavers looking to buy and sell wares. People. Based on the location and shape of the chip it was not an active locater but if she did a vanishing act, it could be turned on. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Pidge found a towel and wrapped it around herself. She wandered into the bedroom and found that a change of clothes had been left for her on the bed. She didn’t think anyone had come in during her episode, so it must’ve been left there for her. She started to drop the towel and then thought of surveillance. Well, the security guard could be treated to her strip show. Then she thought –for some fucking reason– of Lotor jacking it to her naked form and her grip retightened.

She picked up the clothes but kept the towel around her as she pulled them on. The outfit itself was actually tasteful. Black pants and just under the knee leather boots. A long sleeve shirt with the shoulders cut out and with purple accents. She looked like any Galra teenager at the space mall. Still, she pulled her jacket on over it.

Now, back to the matter at hand. Pidge paid attention to the rooms of the apartment that she had previously ignored. There was a main room, with two couches, one of which she had dramatically suffered on for about two hours. Between the couches was a coffee table and mounted on the wall was a holo screen, and an advanced sound system. There were curtains on the windows and double doors led out to a balcony.

The bedroom had one double bed, well made and tidy. There was a bookshelf with data pads boasting various titles, articles, and dictionaries. The desk had a computer system, and writing paper, real paper, she hadn’t seen that in years. There was a kitchen attached to the common room with a fridge full of fresh food. The dining room was attached to the kitchen and had a door to the common room. It was a nice place to stay.

She saw no obvious cameras or surveillance devices, even though she aggressively tore apart everything in search of them. She pulled the mattress of the bed, the cushions off the couch, searched the bookshelf and objects on it, she checked each item of food in the fridge, under chairs and tables, ran her hands along the walls to find abrasions, the corners, the sink, the plumbing, the cabinets. It was astounding, she found nothing.

Pidge racked her brain through every account of surveillance she had ever heard of. Without a scanner, she could think of nothing that Lotor could use that she hadn’t already checked for. This was a regular apartment, for all accounts, and she checked the peep hole. A guard stood watch but it hit her that this was a helluva lot of faith for Lotor to put on her.

She walked out onto the balcony and gaped as she looked over the top of the city. She was in a skyscraper, probably around the eightieth floor. The people at the bottom who milled about the street, and the shuttles that flew below were miniscule. She looked up, there was a balcony above her and below her but even on a good day Pidge wouldn’t be confident enough to make that jump. With her ribs? It was impossible if not insane to contemplate the idea.

She walked back inside; it was cold out there.

She had a hypotheses.

Lotor knew little about Pidge. There was what she had told him and what he had seen of her. Hacking was her primary job for the Paladins. She was a soldier, effective in combat. However, compared to Lance, Keith, and Shiro she had never been forefront in the diplomatic efforts for Allura, her face was not on a poster. She had always been back stage, out of the lime light, it was where she was happiest and today it fundamentally paid off because it was dead clear that Lotor was severely underestimating Pidge.

They were not on a Galra controlled world, Lotor’s resources were not nearly as extensive here as they were in the heart of the Empire. The guard at her door was probably just a security guard for the apartment, or a hired mercenary for slavers. It was entirely possible that Lotor did not have the means to run an active surveillance against her. Having someone watch her 24/7 required man power and what she knew about Lotor told her that he preferred a low profile too.

There was an element of trust too. He gave her clothes, while landing he talked to her about politics and the planet, and all sorts of things. He rode in the same shuttle as her while the generals took another that trailed behind. He was friendly, nice. They did not talk about intelligence or of the war. He wanted Acxa to like her. Now, this was an angle, but he might be trying to earn her loyalty.

And why not? Hell, it was a little flattering. Part of Lotor’s stick was unity, getting planets to work together with the empire. Pidge was useful. Pidge played a pivotal role in the success of Voltron, Allura, and the whole alliance.

“Clever alien,” she muttered, as she walked into the kitchen.

She put a pan on the stove and found ingredients in the fridge. Cooking was just chemistry. Having hung around Hunk for so many hours in the kitchen meant that she could whip something up too, just not as good. But still edible. She recognized many of the ingredients and she sautéed the vegetables with a chunk of a poultry like meat. Lotor, to his credit, didn’t give her any knives, but she did have a fork. While letting her meal cook she turned on one of the burners and found a spatula like device in the drawer.

She put the metal part of the spatula against the burner then shrugged off her jacket and shirt. She waited for the metal to turn a glowing red hot, then turned the heat low on her meal. Pidge took the still hot spatula and walked into the bathroom.

She sat on the edge of the counter, took several deep breaths, braced her heels against the drawers, and then reached above her head. Her ribs protested but she angled the spatula down and hissed through her teeth as the hot metal burned her skin. In one smooth, committed movement she dug the sharp edge under her skin and beneath the chip, the heat cauterizing the wound and burning away the skin that held it in. The chip fell from her back and clattered into the sink.

She jumped off the counter and pushed herself into the tub where she let cold water run down her back to soothe the burn. Pidge eventually stood, dried herself, and took a look at that chip. She had been right about it’s nature, even the brand and model it was. It was no bigger then her fingernail and the electronics were still intact. She put it in her pocket.

She pulled her shirt and jacket back on, rolling out her shoulders. Pidge walked back to the kitchen and ate her meal over some of the provided reading material. An article on the economics of Lina. Lina charged a substantial fee for incoming and leaving ships, docking was at a premium. The reason it got away with it is that the system was set in an FTL highway between the outer ring of the galaxy and the Empire. In other words, it was a must stop for many traders. For many slave traders. She wondered what Lotor’s position on slavery was and also, if Lina kept a database on it’s slaves.

It was just as possible that Dad or Matt passed through the area. Although, they would be slaves under the imperial banner. Matt was already in the hands of the raiders, but it was just as possible he was sold. If she had time, she should follow that lead while she was here.

Pidge looked up as the door chimed.

She leaned back in her chair, pushed the plate away, and propped her feet up on the table. “Come in.”

Lotor walked into the room and that was when Pidge realized she had only put half an effort in putting it back together. His eyebrows knitted together and he stepped in view of the dinning room door way. He turned out his hands and seemed to quietly ask ‘why.’

Pidge interlaced her fingers over her stomach, “I was checking to see if you were watching me.”

“Why would I?” He asked.

“It’s weird that you’re not,” Pidge said. “The trust is nice though.”

“Are you planning on escaping?” He asked, he strode into the room and took a seat. There was no request for permission to invade this small space of hers, he just took it.

“Of course I am,” Pidge said. “If I sit in here bored long enough, it’ll be all I think about. I have a question.”

He spread out his palms to her to show that he was open to such things.

“What’s your plan for me?” She asked. “I feel that this is a temporary arrangement but at the end of the day, I’m still a Paladin of Voltron and one of your top five enemies.”

“The line between enemy and friend is fine,” Lotor said. “You’ve probably figured this out, but I want to see if we can cross it. Think of this like an experiment.”

“You and Allura are a lot alike,” Pidge said. “You think there’s a way to bring unity to the Galaxy, but you’re both still so different in your approach.”

“War can’t last forever Pidge,” Lotor said.

“I suppose,” Pidge said, “but you have something of mine, something I can’t let go.”

“And what do I have?” Lotor asked. “That is yours?”

“I can’t tell you,” Pidge grinned. “But there can’t be restitution until it’s been restored There’s a lot of things that can’t be balanced out. Things we can’t let go. That’s why we’re fighting this war, isn’t it?.”

“That’s not fair,” Lotor observed wirily.

“So I won’t hold it against you,” Pidge said. “I assume you didn’t just come here to chat though.”

“I came here to invite you,” he said.

“To where?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“That’s an invitation,” Pidge said. “But I feel like I can’t refuse.”

“Of course you can,” he said, and he wasn’t lying but the opposite statement was true as well. “I just don’t want you to.”

Pidge stood, and schooled her expression to make sure he couldn’t see her pain. “Well, let’s go.”

“I see you found the clothes,” he said. “I told the staff to lay something out for you before we arrived. You look stunning.”

He held out his arm to her and it took her a second to realize what he wanted. She hesitantly hooked her elbow with his, despite their height difference it worked and she could put just a hint of weight on him during the stride to help keep her up right.

“At least it’s not a slave-Leia costume,” Pidge grunted.

“Leia?”

“It’s an Earth movie reference,” Pidge said, and left it at that. Explaining Star Wars to Coran was bad enough. “You know I was expecting to be tortured.”

They left the apartment and started down the hall.

“Torture isn’t morally agreeable to me,” Lotor said, “not to mention it’s a horrible way to get information. You’d tell me some crafty lie and I’d be chasing ghosts for weeks.”

They took the elevator downstairs, Pidge unhooked her arm from his and stepped an inch away. It gave her time to sort out the rise of defensive anger that curled in her chest. Rage was a natural necessity of her life style, it was a fire that pushed her forward when all other sources had been depleted. In times like these though, she needed the quiet complexity of the calm.

By the time the doors opened on the third floor she had collected herself. Wordless, she took Lotor’s arm in hers and he guided her to a door on the right. He opened it and Pidge blinked her eyes against the bright lights.

The ceiling was about three story high and looked almost exactly like the training deck on the castle ship. Chairs and benches were set up to form a circle around the room. In the middle of the circle Ezor and Acxa spared with staffs, trading blows with skill in quick succession.

It was an arena, because of course it was.


	3. Grand Illusion

Pidge watched Acxa smack Zethrid across the back of the neck with her staff, slide the end straight back to catch Ezor, and then kick Narti so hard in the chest she went flying. She blocked Zethrid’s blow and twisted her staff around Zethrid’s arm until she was bound up. Acxa turned Zethrid, forcing Ezor to trip over herself to prevent hitting her teammate. Acxa finished Zethrid’s three hit point limit with a knee to the gut.

“She’s good,” Pidge said, arms crossed over her chest.

Acxa had picked the staff for the past three matches and so far had gone undefeated. In the context of sparing, she could see her preferred sparing style. She moved like Lotor did, fast, evasive, but she was more direct, aggressive. She could see a lot of Keith in her. Most important, Pidge realized, was that she used her situation to her advantage. Or in this case, she used her enemies to her advantage. Never once did she let herself get caught in the middle.

“She can lack restraint,” Lotor said.

Acxa jabbed a charging Narti hard in the gut and then finished her with a strike to the neck. Acxa fixed a lock of hair behind her ear and turned on Pidge. She leveled the point of the staff at Pidge and said, “Enough! I want to fight her.”  
Pidge narrowed her eyes as she ran through a few calculations. She glanced at Lotor, and then at the other generals. They were staring at her, waiting for her reaction.

Pidge stood. “I can go for that.”

She rolled her shoulders, as she walked out into the arena, popped her neck a couple of times.

“Pick a weapon,” Acxa said.

On a table was several weapons that the generals had been picking from. Staffs, dummy swords and knifes, blasters, batons.

“No, thanks,” Pidge said.

Acxa’s eyes widened.

“What?” Pidge smirked. “'fraid of good ‘ole fisticuffs?”

“What did she say?” Ezor asked Zethrid, from behind Pidge. “I think my translator glitched.”

“It’s no problem,” Acxa said, throwing her staff aside, it clattered to the ground.

Pidge set her stance. She started one toe forward and the other pointed out, and she rocked up on them, just enough to keep her weight forward. Her elbows stayed low and she didn’t clench her hands into fists yet.

“I can’t help but to notice,” Pidge said, with a wicked grin. “That you’re following a real dumbass.”

It really shocked Pidge, Acxa did exactly what she was supposed to do. Acxa slid into Pidge’s range and clocked her hard across the jaw. Pidge took the hit, her face throbbing, her body throbbing. Her body protested this entire concept but she jammed that down in a jar and buried it in the dirt, this was something she needed to do. She took a deep breath, sucked it up, and fixed back on Acxa.

Pidge blocked Acxa’s next strike and noted how she didn’t throw a second. Pidge punched Acxa into the gut, then the ribs with the reverse hand, and then across the face before Acxa disengaged, hands low. Pidge started to advance on her but pulled at the last second and Acxa caught her hard in the ribs with a sidekick.

Pidge doubled, but she braced in time for Acxa’s roundhouse across the jaw. Pidge dropped to the ground and Acxa fell on her, pinning her hands above her head, straddling her hips. Pidge took a deep breath, wedged her feet under her own hips and pulled herself out from underneath Acxa then bucked her off. Acxa kept her legs around Pidge’s waist and used her superior weight to force Pidge back down.

Pidge ate an elbow across the face for her trouble. Her head spun. Acxa pulled up for another punch.

“Enough, Acxa!” Lotor shouted, Acxa froze. Pidge thought for a second she would punch her anyway, but instead she stood and bowed her head to Lotor.

“Good girl,” Pidge growled, sitting up and wiping her mouth. Acxa looked down at her with rage and contempt, it almost threw Pidge, but she only smirked in response. “What’s a matter? You got what you wanted.”

Pidge stood and slunk back to her seat beside Lotor. She leaned back into the chair. Now her face and her chest hurt. Pidge leaned back in the chair, tilting her head back so her face turned towards the ceiling.

“I’m surprised she beat you,” Lotor said, not looking at her.

“I’m not,” Pidge said. “There’s a reason I hang back in fire fights, I’m all smoke, no substance.”

“That’s a candid assessment of yourself,” Lotor said, finally looking at her. “Don’t you and the paladins train?”

“Of course,” Pidge said. “I’m just saying, that if Keith was out here and not me, then the result of that fight’d be a little different.”

“Hmm, would Keith pick his fists over a sword?” Lotor asked.

“No,” Pidge said firmly. “Keith’s a great fighter on all accounts, but prefers to have a weapon in his hand. I just didn’t want to be beaten with a stick.”

“Very rational,” Lotor praised.

“So, is this all you have planned for the evening?” Pidge asked.

“You and I are going to have dinner,” Lotor said.

“You and I?” Pidge repeated.

“The generals have business to take care of,” Lotor said. “I kidnapped you, I can treat you to a meal.”

“Well, that’s fair,” Pidge said. She let her brain skip like a scratched record over the obvious insinuation and instead she looked down at herself. “Not sure I’m dressed the best though for a uh, date.”

Son-of-a-bitch did she have to use that word?

“I’m the prince of the most powerful empire in the galaxy,” Lotor said. “You can wear whatever you want.”

Pidge nodded. Lotor watched several more matches between the generals and Pidge kept taking notes on their fighting styles. They were all unique but the imprint of similarity had been forged. They all fought like Lotor and when Lotor guided her out of the arena, she did it with the satisfaction of knowing she won.

They took the elevator down to the bottom floor. Despite the medicine running thin and her concentration on not showing that she was about to die, Pidge did remember passing the swanky restaurant. A warm glow emanated from the dark interior, lights were strung with a red leaved vine around the entrance. When she walked in, her immediate conclusion was that Lotor was either trying to get her killed or embarrass her until she committed senpaku under the table.

A waiter in a suit buttoned to his chin sat them at a small table. The tables were laid with a plant based cotton table cloth, the material she identified by rubbing it between her thumb and index. The chairs were wood, the lights were tiny oil fires in lamps that dangled over the tables on iron metal chains.

Most of all, every single diner was dressed their best. The ladies wore sweeping, multilayered robes and gowns that glimmered with synthetic lights and gossamer so thin that ten layers down it was still see through. The gentlemen had strategically cut suits in well coordinated palettes that were geometrically pleasing to the eye, some wore capes, or, if they were Galra, pieces of polished metal armor. Lotor himself, Pidge noted, was dressed pleasantly in a heavy fabric coat that cut at his knees and various layers of shirts and robe. A gold cord was braided into his white hair which spilled down his shoulder.

Pidge sat down and tapped her fingers against the edge of the table nervously. She tried to recall all the manners that Coran and Allura had drilled into her but the copious amount of eyeballs glaring at her was making that fleeting. Her jaw set: this was bullshit. She caught the eye of an alien lady that wore a bright red gown and did not look away, Pidge promised through sight alone that she would go over there and kill her with her bare hands. The lady, who was primarily yellow, turned a darker shade then proceeded to mind the business of her steak.

Pidge glared back at Lotor.

“Do you care what they think about you?” Lotor asked, he leaned back into his seat.

“No,” Pidge said, she pushed on the end of her fork to make it stand up. She ran her tongue over her teeth. “I have a scar on my back. We were running an extraction on a planet surface, a mining colony that was collapsing, literally, the whole town sliding down into a volcano. View wise, incredible. I went too close to the lava, my suit sensors went off but I was attempting to secure a needed bit of infrastructure, buy some time, so I ignored it. My armor was super heated through sheer conductivity. I activated my jet pack by instinct and it saved my life. By the time we got the armor off it had seared a small hole in my back. It’s about this big and still bright red,” she shaped her hands into about the size of football for Lotor, she lounged back into the chair, “So no, I don’t care, because none of these fucks are on my level.”

“I feel like you care,” He said. “You have so much passion in your voice.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Pidge said. “None of this has gone how I wanted it to go.”

It occurred to Pidge that Lotor didn’t know she didn’t have the tracker in her back, or he would’ve mentioned it. She still kept it in her pocket until she found another use for it or discarded with her escape. It did confirm that there wasn’t surveillance in the room. She could flip the table and make it out the front door before anyone could stop her. Then what? She didn’t know the city, she had no way to confirm transport off planet. This was a slave city, the entire place could be mobilized to hunt her down in an hour. 

So she sighed through her nose, told herself to be patient, and kept her butt cheeks planted.

“If I were in your position,” Pidge said, “I would’ve shot me by now.” The waiter brought them two glasses of something orange. Pidge looked at the glass, then at the waiter, “I didn’t order this–”

“The menu is already set,” Lotor said. “Every guest is served the same thing, shows that the chef is confident in his abilities, I suppose. Darling, do be patient, see, I’m treating my wife to something special tonight, sir. We’ve just been married.”

“Congratulations,” the waiter said.

It was good for Lotor that Pidge was too taken aback to do anything but turn a deep shade of red. The waiter left them to it. Pidge’s eyes slowly peeled from the wall behind him, to Lotor.

“Hold the fuck up,” Pidge said.

“In my opinion,” Lotor said. “People aren’t useful if they’re dead, well, maybe as a doorstop if they’re well embalmed. Besides the point, Pidge, you are obviously very intelligent, how often you make short work of our computer systems is a testament to that, and killing you would be a shame anyway. You’re very interesting. Oh, and don’t give me suggestions.”

He winked and took a sip from his glass. He grunted approvingly. “You should try this.”

“No, no, no, no,” Pidge said in rapid succession. “Wife.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Lotor said. “That you’re offended by the suggestion or that you’re surprised I made up that cover.”

“Both?!”

“We’re just pretending,” Lotor said. “I’m not suggesting we make out over the table, unless, you want to?”

“No making out necessary,” Pidge grimaced. “So, do they know who you are?”

“No,” Lotor said, he leaned forward, pressing his elbows into the table. Pidge leaned forward too, so their noses were only a foot apart. “I prefer to be under the radar in places like this, we’re not in the Empire, Pidge, and my head would fetch a high price with the right people. Some of the right people aren’t exactly my friends either. You’re the Green Paladin, there’d probably be a line for the amount of Galra who want the honor of putting a knife in your chest.”

“Morbid,” Pidge said. “So despite all that you still only travel with your generals?”

“Discrete,” he said, “is the name of the game.”

“Then who’s the lug standing at my door?” Pidge asked. “Hired?”

“To the hotel you’re a slave I have in indentured service,” he said. “Think of yourself like a specially trained servant, high-value, I treat you well. Offering an armed guard at the door is just one of many services that the hotel offers as an up-class venue. Would you have preferred we shared a room? Imagine the conclusions they would draw from that?”

“No, I’m fine,” Pidge said, leaning back and holding up her hand. She took a sip from the glass, it was sweet, fruity, “It tastes like orange juice?”

“A… color?”

“No,” she said. “Uh, it’s a fruit from Earth, my home planet. It’s about so big, it’s called an orange but it’s a citrus, it’s high in a light acid so it’s tangy, but sweet. Does that make sense?”

“I think I get it,” he said, “So you have a fruit that is named after a color?”

“Or a color named after a fruit,” Pidge said. “Either or. English is wonky.”

“Is that your native language?”

“No,” Pidge said. “My native language is actually Hebrew, we lived in Israel when I was growing up, before we moved to the states. English is what I speak with the other paladins, since they’re all from America. Except Shiro, I think he was born in Korea, but he moved to America when he was a kid so it doesn’t count.”

“The states is where?”

Lotor leaned back so the waiter could put their first course on the table. It was a light green cold soup of some sort. Pidge took a bite and her eyebrows scrunched up, “cucumber?”

Lotor himself had started eating, and he looked up at her.

Pidge waved the waiter back over and asked, “what is this?”

“Cucumber soup with dill,” the waiter said. “A close proximation of Earth cuisine, a primitive planet on the far side of the Galaxy. There’s been limited contact, however our chef has taken the time to learn all he knows about it to promise an authentic experience.”

“I’m just curious,” Pidge said. “But can you go to your chef, and ask if he knows a guy named Hunk? Pretty please?”

The waiter looked at Lotor, confused, Lotor pointed his finger and the waiter hurried off.

Pidge looked down at the food. “This is weird.”

“I had no idea,” Lotor said, looking down at the soup. “What does a cucumber look like?”

“Like a dick,” Pidge said. “A big green penis.”

He looked at her, she looked right back. Lotor leaned back in his seat, his hand coming up to cover his face as he laughed. It was just a quiet chuckle, but his entire face lit up. Just seeing him made Pidge grin too. They were still laughing when the waiter came back, trailed by the chef too. The chef was a six armed blue alien with a forehead so high it took up half his head. He stood before the table with all six arms behind his back and then looked at Pidge.

“My great stars and nebulas!” The chef declared so loud the entire restaurant stopped mid-conversation and looked. “You’re a human!”

“Sure am,” Pidge grunted, half-covering her face with her hand.

“I am so pleased with your work,” the chef actually picked up her hand from the table and started shaking it vigorously. “Your species is a culinary genius! The variety of flavors! The use of ingredients! Fantastic. Are you acquaintance of the great Hunk?! He’s my hero!”

“Yep,” Pidge said. “How do you know him?”

“I read his cook book,” the chef said. “When I pitched the idea to the hotel owner, he loved it! I got my own restaurant! My life is so much better for it!”

“Hunk has a cook book?”

“It’s brilliant!” The chef said, he frowned. “Oh, I should return to the kitchen. However! I promise you’ll have nothing but the best tonight! This is so great! You must tell me what you think when I finish!”

“Hunk has a cook book,” Pidge repeated, as the chef walked away. “He never told me! He tells me everything, well not everything, he didn’t mention the sabbatical he and Lance took to Vetranzar 5 and the… He would mention a cook book.”

“Hunk is the yellow paladin?” Lotor asked.

“Yeah, the big one,” Pidge said. “Although he’s slimmed down a bit, I think it’s just muscle mass he’s put on you know, Shiro works us out hard. When did he have time? He’s either helping me with the lions, the castle, or cooking– Well, I mean, if he’s been working on it for a while I suppose he could. Can you believe he didn’t tell me?”

“Horrific,” Lotor said dryly. “Perhaps we can find a copy?”

“I’m going to beat him with it when I get back to the castle,” Pidge said.

They finished eating the soup. It wasn’t real cucumber, the after taste was off but it was damn close. So damn close that it gave her mixed feelings. On one hand, it was Earth food, on the other hand it wasn’t Hunk’s approximation of Earth food. On the other other hand, she missed her mom. Still, Pidge cackled when she saw the appetizer, poppers.

Lotor had no idea what he was getting into when he bit into it and fanned at his mouth as the hot cheese burned his tongue. Pidge laughed at him then made the exact same mistake. It was absurd.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lotor said. “About the states.”

“Ah,” Pidge grunted. “The full name of America is the United State of America. Think of each state as a small planet, right, and they all come together to form one big Empire. Except not an empire, it’s a republic.”

“Why is each state independent of one another,” Lotor asked.

“Well, they started out as colonies for a country called England,” Pidge said. “Like, the state I’m from, North Carolina was a colony. Then America got mad about some tea and had the revolutionary war to kick England out, so all the colonies came together to form one country. And we never got over it.”

“That’s what I want for the Empire,” Lotor said, looking out over the restaurant. “Many pieces, one whole.”

“That’s why you let the planets you capture self-govern,” Pidge said. “But I don’t feel like they really have a choice to join, do they?”

“What would matter if there’s a choice?” Lotor asked, “If it’s for the greater good of the Galaxy. We can have no more war, we could all be focused on one direction, one goal. Is that any worse then Allura’s dream? She encourages and pushes planets to join her little Alliance, but they all bicker and the division weakens them, and newly liberated people, collapse.”

“Because you destabilize them,” Pidge protested.

They paused so the waiter could whisk away one plate and put another before them. The entrée was pizza with tiny little fish, like anchovies. Incredible.

“We all have goals,” Lotor said.

“Trampling the free will of people isn’t a goal,” Pidge said. “It’s cruel.”

“The Galra empire is already established,” Lotor said. “We have an effective system of justice and law, infrastructure, communication, government, military, the resources to support a galactic state! Planets can continue to self-govern, united under the direction of the Galra and supported and protected by our capital.”

“That’s what we’re doing,” Pidge said.

“I disagree,” Lotor said. “Allura is an idealistic diplomat, an alliance will only fall apart with time. However, like your United States, many parts one whole, that is what I want.”

“We both know,” Pidge said, as she took a slice of pizza. “That what you want goes beyond just galactic unity.”

“Plans within plans, my dear,” Lotor said.

“The Empire your father built,” Pidge said, “Can’t do what you want it to do. It can’t be used for peace.”

“Why couldn’t it?”

“Lotor, I don’t think you understand,” Pidge said. “There are entire species that have spent generations under slavery. Their culture and identity rotten from the inside out because the Galra used eugenics to control their population. Entire planet’s ecosystems destroyed by nuclear weaponry the Galra unleashed. Hundreds upon millions of people have been displaced and need homes. The political structure of the Empire is corrupt and based on aggression. You think that it’s possible to take an institution built on the bones of the innocent and use it at a force for peace?! It is impossible for an existing power system to be anything more then the dictatorship it was meant to be. Allura may be idealistic, but you’re delusional.”

Lotor nodded along to her points, he was listening but if anything she said meant anything to him, she couldn’t tell. However she could see the skin around his jaw tighten and the fire left sharp shadows on his high cheekbones “And you want me to start from scratch, is that it? To give everything that I’ve worked so hard to reclaim?

“It’s the only way,” Pidge said. “I refuse any other proposal beyond the complete destruction of the empire your father built.”

“Do you think I’m like my father?” Lotor asked, he was focused completely on her. He was hanging on her words.

“I’ve seen a lot of differences in you,” Pidge said carefully. “But if the fundamental aspects of Zarkon, are in you, I’ve yet to see.”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed and she could sense an undercurrent in his behavior. Something beyond just a strained father-son bond, was it rage? His emotional state was impenetrable to her amateurish gaze.

“I am not him,” Lotor said.

“Prove it,” she ordered.

“We’re a lot alike,” Lotor said, his eyes dark. “You’re haunted by something, I don’t know what, but I will eventually, because you’re deceptively transparent. Pidge, wouldn’t you like to destroy that attachment? If you can’t do what you need to do for that greater good, then what’s the point? You fight an uphill battle on a slippery slope, you struggle, but you will never attain your destiny.”

“I’m not going to give up,” Pidge said.

“You will,” Lotor said, smirking. “You’ll fall to my level, and I can see it already, you hate me. We talk about peace but we’re both soldiers, killers, reveling in a war that gives us purpose. It’s a pit, Pidge, the more you struggle the farther down you slide. So long as you let the dead drag you down, you’ll never live again. I’ve already climbed out.”

His words were poignant and again she tried to see his true meaning, his intention but he was as readable as a blank page. All she knew was that he had a conviction as deep as her own and it ran like a rapid river. Any stone yields to the current with time but how long until he wore her away? It was a depth of darkness beyond her, a sheer mystery that she could not turn back from.

“You talk a lot,” Pidge said.

“I can prove it to you,” Lotor said.

“Correction,” Pidge said. “You’re full of bullshit.”

He chuckled, “You’re refreshingly candid.”

“Yeah, Acxa is too busy kissing your ass,” Pidge said. “I think she has a crush on you.”

“She knows better,” Lotor said.

“That’s never been a deterrent with women in my experience,” Pidge said. “Limited as it is.”

He smiled at her, “is is a deterrent for you?”

Pidge stopped mid-chew. She raised an eyebrow, “Are you flirting with me?”  
“Am I?”

She chuckled nervously, “what?”

“I’m only flirting with you,” Lotor said, his voice low. “If you want me to. The question, Pidge, is if you want me to?”

This was curious. He was curious. With a few words he threw the ball into Pidge’s court and was inviting her to play. Social skills weren’t a weakness with Pidge, she wasn’t shy. She knew boys as well as she knew girls. Yet, her straightforward nature and tendency to introversion meant she was rusty in the department of not dropping the ball.

“Is this like, uh,” she began, “Bond girl seduces James Bond to get access to the secret English tea recipe or something? You can just torture me you know, it’d be just as effective. I mean, this is absurd, you just met me.”

“Once again Pidge,” Lotor said. “Don’t give me suggestions. Hmm, who’s James Bond?”

“God, this is terrible,” Pidge said, she leaned back in the chair. “Allura and Coran have all five of us to constantly explain stuff to them. You just have me. James Bond’s an old spy character, he’s all suave and shit, and like double agent spy ladies are constantly having sex with him for their evil ways. I’ve only seen the Daniel Craig movies but I hear the old ones are classy.”

“And you’re James Bond?” Lotor asked. “Shouldn’t I be James Bond, as the male?”

“No, no,” Pidge grinned. “I’m the spy and you’re pretty enough to be a Bond girl.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lotor said.

When the waiter put desert own, Pidge busted out laughing. She poked the sponge looking cake with her fork. The other dinners were eating it and complimenting it, calling it sophisticated. Lotor waited for her to settle down and then asked, “what is it?”

“It’s a twinkie,” Pidge said. “It’s absolutely amazes me that Hunk managed to convince a whole bunch of stick-up-their-asses ponces that twinkies are fine dining.”

“And that is a?”

“Uh,” She said, and took a bite. “It’s this, a cake with cream filling but taste how good this is? It’s like fifty times worse, they’re cheap and come in little plastic packages.”

“Why would anyone eat them if their so bad?” Lotor asked.

“When you’re hungry and need a sugar fix,” Pidge said. “You’ll eat anything. Honestly, people in America have the resources to have it pretty good, even with the economic imbalance. I grew-up in the Middle East, and while Israel is actually well developed, we still took some day trips to some less, fortunate areas.”

“Is there a lot of economic instability, on your planet?” Lotor asked.

“It depends on where you’re at,” Pidge said. “The Confederation is about a sixty country spanning alliance between countries to form a unified governmental system as we prepare to leave Earth.”

“Humans are that advanced?” Lotor asked.

“Well,” Pidge said. “When space travel started, the UN formed the Galaxy Garrison Commission, which basically replaced NASA and the individual country’s space programs. The Garrison put a colony on Mars, Saturn, and Titan. We were actually exploring the edge of our solar system, when we left.”

“And would they expand beyond your system?” Lotor asked. “Humans, that is. Did you have that technology?”

“We don’t have FTL,” Pidge said, “I did a scan, a long time ago, and the mineral deposits required to develop FTL space flight are limited in the solar system. It’s possible, but it’ll be a while for humanity to develop it without a nudge in the right direction.”

“Then how did you travel?” Lotor asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“We stick a giant rocket to a tiny pod with the cargo,” Pidge said. “Point it at the target, do some fancy math, and pray. It’s actually really cool stuff. Although, I wasn’t in to that kind of physics when I was in school, I wanted to go into synthetic and artificial intelligence design. Heh, Matt was a biology nerd, I can only imagine he– would love to see all the aliens.”

Her last second swap of words did not go unnoticed by Lotor but despite the exhaustion of the day, there were still some hard wiring in her that couldn’t be undone. She ate the last of her desert to avoid eye contact and to hide the burn of shame on her face. She did not taste it. The most damnable thing was that all Pidge wanted to do was break down and cry.

“Is Matt a friend of yours?” Lotor asked.

“He’s my brother,” Pidge said, she leaned back in the seat, she spread her arms over the back of the chair and focused on the reflection of light in the white plate. How the fire flicked the shadows. “I haven’t seen him in a long time, or the rest of my family for that matter.”

“I’ve never understood,” Lotor said coldly, “people’s attachment to family.”

“Your father is the biggest dick bag in the galaxy,” Pidge said. “I can’t fucking blame you.”

“And you think it’s that simple?” Lotor asked. “Do you think Zarkon was cruel to me? Was he a bad father and now I’m a bad person?”

“Was he?” She asked. “You’re defensive when ever I bring it up? Do you care about what he’s done? All the people he’s hurt?”  
“His mistakes are not mine,” Lotor said. “So, no, I don’t. I intend to transcend him, to be even stronger then what he was. I won’t make his mistakes, isn’t that enough?”

“And you’re going to do it,” Pidge said, “By using people to your own ends, regardless of what they want.”

“I want to destroy you,” he said suddenly, as if he was considering what pigment to use next for a water color. She was his canvas, an uncompleted and abandoned masterpiece now picked up by him. “And remake you better. I want you to see the merit of my cause. I wonder, how long will it take me find that strand that holds you together? What haunts you, my dear? I want you to see you at the end of the rope, and what you do there.”

“I want this meal to be over,” Pidge said flatly. “Because you’re a creepy jackass. Let’s make something clear, Lotor, I hate you and I hate everything you stand for. You’re not right. I’m going to stop you and no fancy dinner is going to change that fact.”

“I have no fear of you Pidge,” he said. “Your threats are empty.”

It was a strange note to end the night on but together they stood-up from the table. Lotor walked her back to her room, bid her good night, and left her at the door. Pidge wandered into her bedroom, blithely stripped out of her coat and shoes off before collapsing into the bed. Within three cycles of breath, she was knocked out.


	4. Locomotive

Pidge bolted upright.

(She stands on the fresh ground, soft from the rain last night. The graves are a stark white, she cannot read the epitaph, she can’t remember what it was or if there was even was one. The world shrinks until it’s all she sees but what she hears is behind her. Weeping, the whispers, the growls, the shouts.

“You’re insane!”

“They’re dead Katie!”

The quiet statement of the therapist, “you’re a very smart girl Katie, I understand that the grief is difficult to process but you have to let them go.”

“On the one month anniversary of the failed Kerberos mission we revisit the timeline of the tragic crash.”

The ground gives way to Pidge and she sinks, slow. She does not struggle.)

Her heart pounded against her chest, sweat covered her legs which were tangled tight into the blanket. Her eyes darted about the room, identify where she was, she remembered everything that had happened and she fell back into the pillows.

It’s been years. Years and years since she last saw Matt and Dad. Years since she last saw her mother. God, Mom must hate her, despise her. If she was smart she would’ve remarried a man with some normal step-kids who didn’t have delusional dreams of grandeur about space. Maybe some nights Mom didn’t think about the two kids and husband she lost to the stars. Maybe, she had forgotten by now, as it should be.

When Pidge left the house she stole two thousand dollars to get herself to Corpus Christi, Texas, and to support herself while in the Garrison. She took the car and left it in a ditch in Louisiana. Pidge never checked to see if a missing person report was put out about her. If she was her mother, she wouldn’t have bothered. Pidge didn’t even say goodbye. Because of these transgressions –real or not– Pidge knew that she could never return home empty handed, the guilt would eat her alive.

She slid out of bed. It was night time outside. She had forgotten about how wonky Lina’s sun is. Lina had a sixty-nine hour day. According to the calculations Pidge did as she showered, she had arrived at around forty Lina time. Now, twenty hours later, they were at around the sixtieth hour. For Pidge’s body schedule it was early morning, even though the sun was setting.

As she dressed after her shower, she heard someone enter her apartment. She pulled her arm through the jacket, turned off the bathroom light, and then opened the door. Her eyes scanned the room, nothing. Yet, something didn’t sit right in Pidge’s gut, she definitely heard the front door slide open. Off the desk she picked up one of the paper weights, a large hunk of clear crystal stone.

She turned into the common room. Nothing. Pidge stepped light and slow, her senses pricked. She clung the wall as she turned into the kitchen, checking the ceiling, and all the way down.

“Sleep well?!”

Pidge turned fast, brandishing the stone above her head. Ezor squeaked, but caught her arm mid-swing and held tight to Pidge’s wrist with shocking strength. Pidge froze, her jaw set, and she glared up at Ezor. Pidge let her fingers unravel from the rock. Ezor caught the rock in her own hand as it dropped.

“Wow, pretty,” Ezor said. “Did I scare you?”

Pidge exhaled to force herself to feel a little less pissed, and she turned away from Ezor, rubbing at her wrist. She shook her head and grinned before looking back at her.“How do you turn invisible? I can understand if your skin cells can mimic incoming light, but your armor must have the same capacity?”

“You’re really smart!” Ezor said. “That’s exactly it!”

“So then you can turn other colors too?” Pidge asked.

To answer the question, Ezor turned a deep shade of green, matching the secondary colors on Pidge’s armor. She giggled and turned back to her normal reddish hue, “Cool right?”

“Cool,” Pidge said, storing that fact in the back of her mind. “Why are you here?”

Ezor presented Pidge with a box. It had a bow.

Pidge took the box, wondering if she should check to make sure it wasn’t a bomb. Ezor looked down at her, eager. Pidge backed away slowly until she found the table. She set the box down, undid the bow and took off the lid. Inside was a mass of green, white, yellow, and purple fabric. Pidge pulled on a piece and then held up what looked like a fancy green bra. She looked back at Ezor, dumbfounded.

“We’re going to a big party!” Ezor said. “Lotor wants you to come, so I got you a dress.”

“I’m not wearing this,” Pidge said.

“Yes, you are,” Ezor said, firmly. Pidge glanced at her then back at the dress.

“I guess I am,” Pidge said.

Pidge changed in the bathroom. The light green top cut right underneath Pidge’s sternum and exposed her entire stomach all the way to her hips, she checked in the mirror, and it did cover the wound where the chip had been. It did not cover the entirety of her burn scar though, nor the scar on her left hip. The sleeves were cut loose at the wrists and were trimmed with yellow.

The bottom half of the outfit was a pair of white, billowy pants, and a green skirt that was open at the front with various pleats, long enough to trail almost a foot behind her. Included in the set was a dark purple sash that was almost her height. Obviously it was meant for something but for the life of her, Pidge couldn’t figure out what.

“Ezor,” Pidge said as she walked out of the bathroom. She held up the offending garment, “What the hell is this?”

Ezor, who was sitting on the bed and waiting for Pidge, grinned, “I dunno but you look great!”

“For someone who’s tried to kill me,” Pidge said. “You’re really friendly.”

“I try not to take it personal,” Ezor shrugged. “Nothing ever should be, this is a war after all. We both think we’re right. Besides, I think someone like Lotor needs someone like you.”

“I don’t follow,” Pidge said, she tossed the sash over her shoulder.

“Someone strong, practical,” Ezor said. “Who tells him what’s what. He doesn’t listen to us as much as he listens to you.”

“That’ll change after a while,” Pidge said. “I guarantee it. Why do you follow him?”

“I trust him,” Ezor said. “He offered me a place to be when everyone else called me an ugly freak.”

“And when this war is over,” Pidge said. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find a nice guy,” Ezor said. “Or girl, doesn’t matter, and settle down and have like two dozen kids. It’ll be great. I bet I’ll get a huge stipend from the Empire and I can travel!”

“Sounds fair,” Pidge said. “You got shoes to go with this get-up?”

Ezor held up a pair of flats, which she then threw at Pidge’s feet. Pidge caught the odd object she threw at her, and then looked down at the palm of her hand. Earrings and a necklace. Pidge put them on while pushing her feet into the shoes. “Okay, let’s go.”

Ezor bounced off the bed and led the charge out the front door. It wasn’t that Pidge hated being girly, it was just that she hadn’t done it in so long. She was either a paladin, one of the guys, or too busy to care. At the end of the day how people viewed her gender didn’t matter to her, guy, girl, same difference. She stuck with female pronouns because that made things simple, but it wasn’t who she was.

Lotor and the other three generals waited for them out in the hall. He wore a similar outfit to what he wore yesterday, only his hair wasn’t pinned up this time. He looked her over, and this time when he undressed her with his eyes, he stopped at skin level.

“When I was captured I thought you were going to torture me,” Pidge said. “I just didn’t realize that you would use the same tactics as Allura to do it.”

“This is only because I don’t have anyone to babysit you while I’m gone,” Lotor said, he put his hand on her shoulder as he guided her towards the elevator. “Besides, I might be able to use your help. How interested are you in dismantling the slave industry in Lina?”

“Wow, you know how to reverse thousands of years of culture in a night?” Pidge asked, pretending to be chipper. “I bow to the master.”

“I was exaggerating,” he said. “We’re only going to cut the head of the snake off.”

“Heads grow back,” Pidge said, her voice low.

“That they do,” Lotor agreed. “That they do.”

They took the elevator down to the ground floor. If Pidge thought going up with just Lotor or Acxa was cramped, having to share elbow room was Zethrid was a whole experience to itself. Two shuttles waited outside for them, and just like when Pidge arrived, she took the one with Lotor. She stared at him as he looked out the window at the passing buildings. What she had said was true. She had a few assumptions going into this, so far he had shattered all of them but they were still on the opposite sides of a war.

“His name is Myko,” Lotor said, still looking out the window. “He runs one of the largest slave rings in the outer Galaxy, a very powerful and wealthy man. Although Lina has an elected government, Myko is the true leader. A combination of money in the right places, extortion, black mail, threats, and political leverage is what keeps him in power. He practically has a private army under his control.”

“I’ve heard his name,” Pidge said. “We’ve side-stepped a lot of the criminal underworld, it’s too messy and none of us have the experience to handle it. I’m curious to see what you do.”

“But not afraid of such a big dangerous man?” Lotor smirked.

“Remember that story I told you last night?” Pidge asked. “About the scar on my back?”

“Yes.”

“Same deal,” she said.

He laughed.

“So what’s he done to get your ire?” Pidge asked.

“He’s stopped listening,” Lotor said. “We had a shipment of a high value mineral pass through Lina. It did not reach it’s destination, and there was no explanation for as to why. His methods have increasingly deteriorated in moral quality as well. It’s starting to be a hinderance. Simply put, he’s getting too big for his britches.”

“It sounds like this is more about your own interests,” Pidge said, crossing her arms. “Then the slave market.”

The shuttle landed before Lotor had a chance to answer. He glanced at her as the driver opened the door for them. She stared back, but still took his hand when he offered it. Lotor helped Pidge navigate her skirts as she clamored out of the shuttle. They were in front of a large mansion building on a hill over the city. When Pidge looked over her shoulder she could see into the whole valley.

“You should know,” Pidge said, as Lotor interlaced his arm with hers and walked her up the steps to the mansion. “That Allura called my manners atrocious, that’s the exact word too.”

“It’s not me you’re going to embarrass,” Lotor chuckled.

Walking into the house was like walking into a scented candle store and hitting an overwhelming wall of perfume. Broad leafed bushes, thin vines, multi-colored flowers, watered by a complex irrigation system that ran in the floor and along the walls with tiny fountains. It was a nice ambience but the set-up seemed to surprise even Lotor. He pulled her towards one of the high arched doorways to the right before she could take it in, she could sense his impatience and followed.

Others guests milled about, and Pidge could feel their eyes on them. Lotor unhooked their arms and twined it around her waist, his thumb skimming just below the waist of her skirt, but not making contact with her skin.

They passed through a small library with an artificial fire lit in the corner where guests talked over glasses of some clear liquor. Lotor seemed to know where he was going and he pulled her into a hallway on the side, glass doors leading out onto a balcony over looking the hill sides.

“Lotor!” A loud voice said. “There you are!”  
Lotor stopped, and turned. Pidge moved with him and her eyes locked onto a tall pale skinned alien. He had a long thin scar over the corner of his mouth that stretched along the entire length of his square jawline. He dressed just as fine as Lotor and she couldn’t help but to notice the parallel of their fashion, although he wore a long black cape over his shoulders.

“I told you to use the name Ignis while we were here,” Lotor said. “Myko.”

“Of course, of course,” Myko said, he offered his hand to Pidge. She reached out to shake it but he snatched it and switched his grip. He kept his eyes on her as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her knuckles. “Who’s this?”

“Obai,” Lotor said. “My attendant.”

“Is that so?” Myko asked, he grinned at Pidge again. He still had her hand. “Then you wouldn’t mind me stealing a dance from her?”

“Perhaps later,” Lotor said. “I wanted to show her around the mansion, she’s never been here.”

He put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back to him, her back hit against his chest. Her fists clenched with the amount of handsiness that was going around but she kept her mouth shut.

“Of course,” Myko said, he bowed at the hip to Lotor in a way that was obviously mocking. “I will talk with you both, later.”

“Later,” Lotor promised.

Myko swept past them and Lotor’s grip tightened on Pidge’s shoulder. She wrenched her shoulder out of his grip but he grabbed back ahold of her and put his hand on her wrist to steady her. His breath tickled her ear as he leaned down to whisper to her “You are in the company of slavers, your usual attitude is no longer useful or cute. It’d be much simpler if you allow me to express my dominance.”

“Dominance?” she hissed, turning in his grip.

“That’s the way it is here,” He said. “Myko is under the assumption that you are my slave. He knows that asking you to dance is an affront to my power. I understand that you may not like it, but I think it might play to our advantage.”

“You think that he might underestimate me,” Pidge said, “and allow us to get the upper hand? Or at least let us blend in for now?”

“That and it might protect you too,” he said. She had hovered even closer to him, their chests almost touching and his scent was heavy but sweet, like pine. She looked out on the milling people in the main room, “These people will not hesitate to take advantage of a beautiful young woman like you. I understand you can protect yourself, but ownership is a shield of itself.”

“I’d rather watch than talk anyway,” Pidge said.

“I suggest you go amongst them,” Lotor said. “See what you can learn, just keep me in sight. If you feel threatened, find me or the generals right away. Do not try to handle a situation on your own.”

She looked up at him. Only then did she really calculate that the top of her head barely came to his collar bones. He looked down at her, his gaze completely focused on her and that was when she noticed how close they were. Her cheeks turned red and she stepped away, eyes falling to the floor as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Stupid physical reactions that went beyond the depth of her actual mind.

“I got it,” she said.

She took one last look up at him and then walked back into the main room. This was the part where she had to admit, she didn’t know what she was doing. Maybe she should’ve stayed with Lotor but that seemed like a worse idea at the moment. Particullary with her thoughts scrambling so much. She was too much of an introvert to be a social butterfly.

She walked back to the library they had passed through. She pretended to be looking at a book as she edged on the conversation the aliens were having. Talk about this and that, the weather, clothes, names she didn’t know. She walked to the other side of the fire where a different group talked, her curiosity was piqued when she heard ‘voltron’.

“The alliance isn’t concerned with the small dispute of a mercenary band,” one alien said. “Let the big boys duke it out and pick up the spare battles in between.”

“The war is escalating,” another said. “It’s no longer little skirmishes, planets hiring a few more muscles hoping to flex the Galra off. It’s now intergalactic battles. The competition is insane, that’s why we’re discussing the merger…”

“More money in black market weapons then…”

She strained to hear and floated a little closer, she pulled a random data pad off the shelf and flipped on the screen. She pretended to read.

“However this new Alliance might need more brawn.”

“You’d be stupid to get involved in a full war with the Galra.”

“I’m trying to make money Naxi!”

“Better yet, hire out a few battalions to the Galra, I hear there’s a commander in the Baran system looking for some extra guns to hold a position.”

Mercenaries. Small companies looking to make a dime off the highest buyer. An interesting proposition but Pidge doubted that Allura would be interested in anything so unsavory. Pidge put the book back on the shelf and left the library. She went back out in the common room.

“Excuse me!” Someone said, she looked over to see a tall alien that looked a lot like Rolo, might’ve been the same species. “Can I have a moment of your time miss?”

Pidge walked over to the alien, he was accompanied by a few others of the same species. “Sure.”

“What do you know about the black market raider exchanges in the outer ring?” He asked. “We’re having a little debate.”

“I’ve heard some rumors,” Pidge said. “What do you want to know?”

“We’re art dealers,” one of the other aliens asked. He chuckled, “We’ve found that in recent years that the blackmarkets has become increasingly unregulated due to a constant shift in power. We’re not sure why things have been so destabilized, however it’s made things very difficult for some of us.”  
“I know that the raiders that run it,” Pidge said, crossing her arms. “Frequently hawk their own wares at the exchanges. I wasn’t aware that art collectors and dealers would be interested.”

“The Galra don’t allow art that is not governmentally approved to be created,” the first one said. “As such, free thinking art is at a premium. Buying even a student’s doodle can appreciate in value to the point that it can provide a return in the millions. Rescued pieces from conquered worlds? Priceless.”

“What kind of regulations would the black markets usually have?” Pidge asked.

“Rules, such as what can be used to buy what,” he said. “Things that keep the playing field level. Without them it makes it just as easy to take advantage of others as it is to be taken advantage of.”

“I don’t know why,” Pidge said, “You would go to a blackmarket and not expect to be ripped off.”

“Exactly,” the first said. “I’m telling you, Vix, you got what was coming to you.”

“How would someone go about finding a black market?” Pidge asked.

“I can give you coordinates for one just an eight hour FTL flight from Lina,” Vix said. “Just be careful, those places can be dangerous.”

“Like the Unullu swap meets,” Pidge muttered before telling the alien how to send the information to her personal computer on the Castle. She paused, “oh, and can you send another message for me? It’s just a grocery list, I don’t have my personal device with me– ha, no pockets on this dress!– and I don’t want to forget it.”

“Sure thing!” He said.

The heavily coded phrase was going to be sent straight to a remote satellite, bounced amongst communication nodes on a preset path for about fifteen hours, before smacking into the Castle’s communication channel head on. Keith would know what it meant.

Pidge walked away from the group satisfied.

She found a table away from the main mass so she could people watch. Her table was by an open section of the floor, a few couples danced to the light string music. Mostly swaying, some added in a fancy step or two, but it wasn’t too romantic. She was eyeballing a group of long necked aliens when Myko made his reappearance.

He appeared at her right side, hand already extended and an intent in his eye. “May I have that dance?”

Pidge looked up at him and considered telling him where he could stick it. Then she considered that by dancing with him she could tell Lotor where to stick it. She glanced across the room, Lotor was making small talk by a tree. She looked back at Myko, and took his hand.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Pidge said apologetically as his fingers curled around hers.

“Needn’t be,” he said, as he pulled her out onto the dance floor. “I didn’t expect Lotor to have much taste, but you’re a treasure. Who gifted you to him?”

He pulled her to him and his hand came to rest on her lower back. Her skin curled under his touch. In the welling of her deepest soul twisted her gut into an internal rejection of all that this was. She plastered a thin smile on her lips and her eyes focused on his collarbones. He moved them in a slow circle, their hips pushed too close together. His every movement apparent through the muscle of his stomach.

“Fate,” Pidge said.

“So many scars and blemishes,” he said, glancing down at her. “I would’ve been far more gentle to you.”

“Can’t change the past,” Pidge said.

“How did you come to Lotor’s possession anyway?” He asked.

“It was really an accident,” Pidge said.

“You should look at your partner when you dance.”

She tore her eyes up from his collarbones and fixed his gaze on his. There was something so off about his face, almost human, almost natural, but his skin was too tight over his bones, his jaw too wide. He did not catch the rage burning under the surface of her irises but only smiled down at her and pulled her even closer.

“How did you become a slaver?” She asked.

“A family business,” He said. “I was born to his job, just like you were born for your position.”

“I wasn’t born a slave,” Pidge said. “But my entire family is in bondage now, I haven’t seen them for years.”

“Such is life,” he said. “Surely Lotor takes care of you? What more could you ask for? I envy your position, all you need to do is look pretty, flirt, have sex, and be the pretty doll on his arm. Not so hard for a specimen as exquisite as you. You know, in a way, we’re all slaves, some waste away in Galra mines and some of us are slaves to the rigors of the world.”

“I wouldn’t think of your life as difficult,” Pidge said.

“We all have our struggles,” he leaned closer to her, gripping her arm. They stopped swaying, “Do you think that this makes Lotor mad? Seeing us like this?” His hand moved up her waist, running like lightning over her skin. Pidge went stiff. “Don’t you like it Obai? To be touched like this? Beyond what your master gives you?”

“I-” She began.

“I have several slaves under the mansion,” he continued, whispering it in her ear. “Newly caught. Young like you. I’m training them, I’ll sell them on the market for twice I bought them. We can start tonight.”

No, no, no. The clench of her muscles, the way her hips pulled away from his, her teeth ground, her eyes widened. All she had to do was draw back, strike. Scream. Something, something inside her stopped, maybe it was a hard wiring to not act irrational. Maybe it was just the primal fear that ripped through her chest and clogged her throat. Maybe he was stronger then her. There were so many people here, they were all watching, a million sets of eyes and not one helping hand?!

Then the barrier broke when his hand circled her breast. Her fists clenched her, fingers dragged into smooth fabric of his shirt, she drew back her hip, her throat opened, she breathed in.

“May I interject?”

Myko’s hand dropped from her but his arm stayed around her waist. Lotor had curled his fingers around her wrist and gripped so tight that it forced her to uncurl her fist. He squeezed a second time, a warning. He stepped between him and Myko, literally wedging his body in. His hand circled Pidge’s shoulders.

“I would like a dance,” Lotor said. “If the lady would have me?”

Myko backed away, hands up, he winked at Pidge and she watched him walk away. Lotor picked them up into the music, stepping into stride with the other dancers. She was shaking, her breath coming hard and fast. She tried to logic it out, she was hyperventilating, why was she so upset about this? The room was too small, Lotor was too close, the dress too tight.

Lotor pulled her to his chest with one arm and then walked her through the room. They broke through the crowd, hurried up a flight of stairs, through a door, and broke out onto a balcony and into the fresh night air, cool on Pidge’s skin. He released her immediately and she stumbled forward until she her hands found the railing. How many nights had she woken up in a panic attack? How many times had the anxiety struck like a hammer? She had done this before, just never like this.

Pidge grounded her fingers into the cold metal railing. She took a deep breath in through her nose, catching lost scents and unfamiliar sensations with it. Then she held that breath, held it like she was drowning, floating into cold water, her shirt billowing up about her arms, hair swaying in a soft current. Then when she couldn’t go any more, she broke the surface and gasped deep, and full.

“Have you ever felt out of control of your own body?” Lotor asked, leaning against the railing just a foot from her.

“No,” Pidge gasped and shook her head.

“Now you do,” he said. “Horrible isn’t it?”

“I just froze up,” Pidge said, she focused her breath again. She ran a mantra through her head it was okay, she was okay, everything’s fine. “God.”

“I didn’t want you to experience it,” Lotor continued. “I shouldn’t have let you wander. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“No,” Pidge snarled, she straightened. The anxiety still pervaded her thoughts but for the moment she stuffed it down. If there was one thing that Pidge was good at, it was compartmentalizing. “I’m glad you brought me because now I can have the pleasure of killing that son of bitch.”

“That’s what I like about you,” Lotor chuckled, he moved so he could look out over the forest. “You’re so, dedicated. I suppose I had already seen it, even if I hadn’t identified or paid attention to it. Paid attention to you. You crack, but that’s all in stride. You have such a fire in your eyes.”

“You should be a poet,” Pidge grunted, she put her elbows against the railing. “He said we’re all slaves to something. Do you believe it?”

“I do,” he said.

“Then what are you a slave to?” She asked

“To many things,” Lotor said. “Duty, my family, this Empire, my father.”

“This war is killing us,” Pidge said. “Why are we still fighting it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“When all of this is over, Lotor,” she asked. “Do you think that we could be friends?”

He looked down at her, a slight grin at his lips. “I hope so.”

“Whatever we do to each other,” she continued as she straightened. “Let’s not take it personal.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised.

Pidge was still shaky as they walked back to the party. However she had control, and that was enough to keep her upright. Lotor left her at the table, promising to find her some water. She leaned back into the chair, shutting her eyes against the bright lights as she further collected her thoughts.

Since Pidge was five years old, she had been taught boxing by her mother. She was six when she first held an AR-15 assault rifle. Combat, fighting, these were not new concepts to her but again and again, she had found that the sandbox training of her childhood was nothing compared to the brutal reality. Despite everything, despite years of promising to beat up boys who touched her without her permission. Despite five years of this war. She had choked when some jackass molested her.

She could still feel his hands on her.


	5. Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)

A sensation pricked her right side, the feeling of movement, not touching her but, something was there. A gut feeling. Pidge’s eyes popped open to the barrel of a rifle, pointed right at her face. She looked up to the face of one of the guests, turned sour by a mean expression. Her eyes sought out the two dozen armed individuals now crowding the guests into the corners. The generals had been caught in the cross hairs of about five or so, smartly back several feet. Across the room, Pidge found Lotor, hands in the air, face severe.

“Well, well, well!” Myko said, clapping his hands together. “How do you like my little surprise Prince Lotor? Sorry, I know it’s a little tacky, but it’s what I could throw together at such short notice. Comfortable?”

“I thought we were going to talk business,” Lotor said. “Not pull the guns so fast.”

“What’s the matter my Prince?” Myko asked, floating in closer to Lotor. “A few drinks in everybody? Tired after a long day? Unarmed?”

On the table was one a delightful little sculpture. This one was carved into an elegant bird,. Left at the base of the bowl though was the pick used to form it from some soft rock. Pidge’s eyes went from the pick to stare down Lotor, he felt her stare and met her eyes. She glanced up once at the man with the gun to her head.

He looked at his generals. One of them had smartly put them on their knees, ankles crossed, hands on their hands. Zethrid looked pissed. Lotor looked at Pidge and shook his head slow. Well, she hadn’t listened to him up until then, so why start now?

“Myko,” Pidge said, her voice echoing over the hall.

He turned to look at her. A smirk spread across his lips, just seeing her must have given him all sorts of ideas for revenge against Lotor. Pidge crossed her legs as he approached, her arm resting over the table. She steadied herself as he approached, now was not time for the flight response. However from the depths of her body raised up the fire inside of her and it was like a steadying fuel, keeping her muscles warmed, ready to go.

He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet, rough. Myko’s breath was hot in her ear, as he called out to Lotor, “What should I do to her, my prince?! Rape her here on the table?!”

“I don’t know what he did to you,” Pidge said under her breath. “But don’t you think there’s a better way to solve this?”

His hand dragged down between her legs. He pushed her against the table, knocking into the statue. He pulled down on her waistband, it was almost half way off her hips before her hand latched onto his and she dug her nails into his skin. He pulled against her grip but she was stronger then him and she saw his eyes widen as she dug her fingers into the delicate bones of his wrist. She slammed his palm down against the table and gave him a big toothy grin.

“Do me a favor,” Pidge said, as she picked up the ice pick. “Hold this.”

She slabbed the pick down into his hand, inserting it between the flesh of his bones. Myko screamed as blue blood spilled from his hand. Pidge hooked her foot underneath the table and thrusted it out, shoving Myko and the table over on end. Her hand shot out and caught the barrel of the rifleman’s gun and she dragged him towards her to slam her elbow against his temple. She smashed the butt of the rifle against his face and jammed his knee, dropping him to the floor.

Pidge dropped behind the table just as a slug whizzed past her head. She took the time to check the weight of the rifle and adjust the butt to her shoulder. She then thrusted her hand over the table and shouted, “Wait, wait, wait! Everyone hold on a second!”

To Pidge’s absolute shock it worked. People stopped shooting at her, really polite. She moved around the table, and yanked the knife out of Myko’s hand, “thanks!”

She threw herself to the floor, dodging a hail of slugs as she squeezed the trigger for the rifle. It sent the soldiers sprawling for cover. Lotor and the generals dropped to the floor. Pidge wasn’t planning on hitting anyone, just sow a little chaos.

She pushed herself to her feet and charged the soldier closest to Lotor. She used the three free fingers holding the rifle to grasp the soldiers arm to clear his rifle. She drove her knee into his gut, put the pick to his throat, and gently persuaded him into the ground, face first. Pidge grabbed Lotor by the back of his collar and they dove behind a marble wall as the soldiers regrouped to return fire.

“Let’s trade,” she said. Pidge shoved the rifle into Lotor’s arms. He had drawn a dagger from his thigh holster and she took that from him, the ice pick she stuck in her top. “I’m not that hot of a shot.”

“I noticed,” he grunted.

A peak over the top of the retaining wall revealed that the generals had been pinned to position by a spread of covering fire. Ezor wasn’t in her armor.

“If you cover me,” Pidge said, “I’m going to untangle their flank. I’ll let you handle the rest. I need to get down into the basement.”

“Why?!” Lotor demanded. He turned in position and fired several shots before dropping down. “Take Acxa with you.”

“I wouldn’t trust her with my back!” Pidge said, she pushed down on her skirt’s waist band and pulling it off her legs, leaving her in the white pants. “Myko said he had slaves down there and I’m not leaving without them.”

“You’re incredible,” he laughed. “The basement is through the East door, the kitchen, on the right.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Naturally, darling,” he smirked down at her. Once again Pidge felt like a layer had been peeled away, the look in his eyes was wild, excited.

Pidge slipped out of her cover on the opposite side. She dove into a hallway. Slugs ricocheting through the thin wall as she sprinted it’s length. Her ribs didn’t complain thanks to the healthy blast of adrenaline coursing her veins. Pidge darted out into the main room. She came in low, kicked in the knee of the first soldier, and caught him around the throat with the knife. She positioned his body in-between her and the soldiers, letting the shock of her movement give her a few strides closer to the enemy position.

She thrusted the soldier towards the position and her hand swept the barrel of the nearest gun. She thrusted the weapon back at it’s owner then pushed her hip into the taller opponent and flipped him over her shoulder.Pidge took his weapon and smashed her foot into his head. She dropped the weapon and with her foot kicked it toward Zethrid.

Pidge turned and spin kicked a soldiers across the jaw. He dropped to his knees and she thrusted her heel into his chin, dropping him. She plucked the pistol from his hand and dropped just as Zethrid picked up her new weapon to send a wide spread across the room. Pidge breathed deep, caught her breath, and jumped the retaining wall and pushed through the foliage of a stand of bushes to emerge on the other side. She sprinted into the house, slugs whizzing past her head but the generals were returning fire and Pidge escaped unscathed.

She followed Lotor’s directions through the dark house. Any servants or slaves had smartly taken cover. In the kitchen she passed the cook, who was cowering by the fridge. She told him to get while the going was good. She found a large metal door and hacked the control panel; it slid open for her obediently. Pidge checked the heat sink on her pistol, she had plenty of shots.

She held Lotor’s dagger in her left hand and the pistol in her right as she started down the stairs. She was walking in blind. Literally. Only a thin red safety light lined the right side of the steps, pulling her deeper into the dark. Pidge remembered that the tracker was still in the top of her dress, ironic, now she wanted Lotor to be able to find her.

At the base of the stairs she came to a long, thin hallway that branched off towards several doors. She approached the first one on her right. The command console obeyed her touch, and it slid open. It was a cell, empty. She pressed onto the next one.

Advanced psychological tactics could be used to completely brain wash an individual. A combination of chemical medication, starvation, dehydration, and sexual pressure could completely overwrite the personality of a slave. Make them pliant. Sellable. She had heard of it, not seen it personally.

Not until she opened the last door on the right hand side. The alien was a Vishta, a red skinned and thin boned creature with green facial markings. She did not respond to Pidge’s query. The girl huddled in the back of the cell, but she wasn’t shaking, just sitting, her eyes on Pidge’s feet. Pidge stepped into the cell and she seemed to shrink.

“She won’t listen to you.”

Pidge flinched and turned to see Myko leaning against the wall. He had wrapped his hand in a cloth and cradled it against his chest. He must’ve followed her close to arrive so soon after her. Pidge stepped out into the dark hallway, and her eyes narrowed when she saw the pistol in his hand, low at his hip but pointed at her. The air was heavy.

“Put down the gun and knife,” He ordered.

Pidge bent at the knees, slowly she lowered the pistol and knife. She placed them on the ground and then stood, hands coming up beside her head. She stepped just a bit closer to him.

“I don’t know why Lotor trains his slave to fight,” Myko said. “But you disgust me.”

“You’re wrong,” Pidge said, between her words, she took another step towards him. Judging his body language at each point of her step. “I’m not Lotor’s slave and I’m not yours either.”

He pushed off the wall, “We’ll see, Obai.”

“That’s not my name,” she said.

“Oh?

“Do you want to know a secret?” She asked. “Something that not even Lotor knows?”

He pushed off the wall and waited for her to answer.

“My name is Katie Holt,” she said. “I am the Paladin of the Green Lion of Voltron.”

His eyes widened and she dove to his side, sweeping the pistol out of the way just as it went off. The shot ringed in her ears and the muzzle flash burned at her face. Pidge slammed her fist into his side, drove her elbow into his face, and then stripped the weapon from his hands. She turned the barrel back towards him but her grip was loose and he jerked, the weapon flew through the air to clatter against the floor behind them.

Her hand reached out and she grabbed tight to the sleeve of his coat. She then pulled her towards him and into her uppercut to his gut. Twice more she struck in the ribs before hooking him across the face and on the draw back she back handed him. Pidge drew her fist back and hit him again, punching him again and again until her knuckles ached with each strike. She let him go and kicked him in the chest, screaming with the exertion.

Myko hit the wall but pushed off and tackled her. Her grabbed her by the throat and drove her back. She slammed against the wall, her breath coming as nothing but thin hisses as he drew his hand back and punched her across the face. Pidge’s hands batted at him helpless as he drove his strikes into her, putting stars in her eyes.

Her right hand fastened into his jacket again. Her left hand shot out and found his eyes, in one motion she drove her fingertips into his eyes until they gave out. Pidge’s fingers curled in his sockets until she latched into the inside of his skull. She threw him to the ground but his grip on her arm was like iron and she was dragged down with him.

Myko was screaming, pushing her down, striking blind but still fighting with the vigor of a terrified animal in pain. Pidge kicked at him and punched, bucked her hips up and flipped them over. From the top of her dress she drew out the pick, arced it high, and plunged it into his throat. For a few seconds he thrashed under her but then, he stopped.

She gasped, ragged and weak, her hands covered in blood, the dead man pinned under her hips. Pidge stood, leaving the pick in him. She spat.

“Who won?!” Someone shouted behind her, Pidge turned over her shoulder. One of the slaves had gotten to her feet and was pressing her face to the bars. “Who are you?!”

“My name is Pidge,” She said. “I’m here to help.”

God damnit, how was she going to ‘help’? Hand them over to Lotor and the Galra?

“Is, he dead?” The girl asked, looking down at Myko’s body.

“Is there another exit?” Pidge asked.

“Only where the guards come through,” Another voice said, male, in the other cell. “We can’t leave.”

“That’s the medicine talking,” The girl spat, “I’m new, they haven’t dosed me yet, please, get me out of here.”

“Are there others?” Pidge asked, she walked over and entered the override command into the console. The door slid open and the girl spilled out. She was another Vishta. “Get the girl across the hall.”

“My name is Petra,” The Vishta girl said as she went to do as Pidge said. Overhead, in the rooms above they both flinched as gun shots echoed through the house. She looked down at Myko’s body and then at Pidge who was covered in his blue blood, she shuttered. “Vapsaria have mercy on us.”

Pidge didn’t know if God had followed her past Earth, the scripture on space travel was a little hazy, or if he would even listen to her after all she had done. Still, she threw her own counter prayer at him.

The male prisoner took a little coaxing but he eventually took Petra’s hand and was pulled out of his cell. The other two were in the same states as the first Vishta girl. They did not respond when Pidge asked for their names. Although when she ordered them to stand and walk with them, did so with little complaint. It did weigh heavy on her conscience to do that, but it worked, and she’d take it.

Petra lead the way down the hallway, recounting to Pidge with shocking detail the facility as they navigated the maze of tunnels. While Pidge cleared each turn she considered her options. She didn’t have many, none of them were pretty either.

Petra led them into a docking bay, cut into the side of the hill. A guard was sitting behind a desk, feet on the desk, reading a data pad and chuckling to himself. Pidge cut through the shadows, leaving her wards by the door. The guard jumped when Pidge pressed the barrel of the pistol to his head.

“Hands up,” she ordered, the guard raised all six of his. “Good, I need two things.”

“Anything,” The guard gasped.

“Are any of these crafts space flight worthy?” Pidge demanded.

“Myko’s personal shuttle can handle vacuum,” the guard stammered. “But it can’t go FTL.”

“Are any of you pilots?” Pidge demanded, looking up at the group.

“Dandta is,” Petra said, holding up the hand of the male alien.

“We’re going to die,” Dandta moaned.

Pidge and Petra shared a look, and despite having known each other for ten minutes, they showed equal concern.

“Second thing I need,” Pidge said, “is your personal device.”

The guard pulled a phone looking object out of his pocket. He handed it to Pidge, she smirked, “Thanks a ton.”  
Pidge pistol whipped the guard across the face and he collapsed to the floor.

“You killed him,” Dandta whispered, horrified.

“He’s just knocked out,” Pidge said, she searched his body. She took his rifle and pistol to hand them to Petra. Pidge hesitated before she handed the personal device over, thinking of how much she could use it, but at the end of the day, she didn’t need it. She scolded herself as she reset the devices memory bank, uploaded her command codes from Pidge’s personal cloud data bank, and gave it to Petra, “this is the most important thing you have. With this you have leverage and power. Do not loose it.”  
“I won’t,” Petra said.

Pidge walked through the lines of shuttles, as she walked she said, “On that device is a series of commands, you should be able to find them. The first one you need is going to be the navigation command, this’ll help program the shuttle to take you where you need to go. To escape the planet you need to head to Lina’s magnetic pole, that’s where the planet’s shield is weakest, you can use command “V49Y” and that should shut down a section big enough for you to escape.”

They found the shuttle. It was a sleek, fast thing, high quality and painted an obnoxious red. Petra helped Pidge hand the less functional slaves into the back seats. Dandta clamored into the pilot seat. Petra stood on the passenger side door, one foot mounted, and looking down at her, intent.

“You’re going to head out as far as your fuel will take you, into deep space,” Pidge said. “Stall all systems but life support and then use command 'priority’, I guarantee you that someone will come for you within twenty-four hours. Whoever that is, tell them to standby for me and to find the Green Lion of Voltron.”

“Voltron?” Petra asked. “It’s real?”

“It’s real,” Pidge said. “Honestly, at any point You can use the priority command. The farther you are from Lina, the simpler and safer your extraction will be though. As long as you have the device, someone will find you and they will help you. I can guarantee that.”

“You won’t come with us?”

“I can’t,” Pidge said. “If I go with you, I’m baggage, there’s some people up there who want me more then they want you. You have to do this on your own but I can tell you’re strong, you can handle it. Just remember, if you worry about the 'what-ifs’ you’ll miss your chance, you have to step up now.”

“I understand,” Petra said. “Thank you so much.”

Dandta had started the engines, he was babbling morbidly but he was doing what he was told. The three in the back still hadn’t spoken, and if they never did again, Pidge would make sure they had their satisfaction in knowing that the son of a bitch who did that, was going to get his. Pidge looked back at Petra.

“You’re in good hands,” Pidge said, she stepped away from the shuttle as Dandta started the take off. “Fly low! Stay out of sight! And, good luck.”  
“I won’t need it!” Petra called back, she closed the shuttle door. Pidge watched the shuttle take off and fly out of the bay door. Smooth and easy, good, that meant Dandta was a competent pilot. If he could manage take-off he could hold them steady to deep space.

Pidge sent after them another prayer.

Leaving them with Lotor was unacceptable to Pidge. Going with them would just make things more complicated. If trusting in the unseen hand of God and their ability to follow her simple instructions was all she had, then she would take it. Because the only thing Pidge knew for certain was that her teammates would do what she needed them to do. 

Pidge waited in the bay, staring out at the forest that the limited door revealed. The hints of the sky she could see. The cry of the night bugs and insects of Lina. The wind. Pidge closed her eyes as the wind curled around her legs and body, ruffled her short hair. It was about time to go home.

___

“What happened tonight was a surprise,” Lotor said.

They sat in the common room. Lotor had perched himself on a retaining wall, one leg curled under him. His hand covered a wound in his left abdomen, despite the slow bleeding and that Pidge suspected that he had been shot, he didn’t seem to mind it. Ezor, Zethrid, Narti, and Acxa sat on a bench together. Zethrid tended her weapon, Ezor was wearing only a blood stained towel around her waist, Acxa leaned her head back and started at the ceiling, Narti’s cat curled in her lap. Pidge sat on the floor and pretended she wasn’t covered in blood.

“I’d say!” Ezor laughed, “I think they ran away.”

“I told you we should’ve brought weapons,” Zethrid said. “They were organized, Lotor, this wasn’t some pedunk little mercenary band for hire. This was a fighting force and they were ready to deploy tonight. We need to get off this planet.”

“Myko isn’t your problem anymore,” Pidge said, they looked up at her.

“Care to fill us in?” Lotor asked. She hadn’t spoken since she quietly walked back up to the common room to join them. No one had addressed her either so she hadn’t bothered to speak.

“He’s dead,” Pidge said. That statement fell over the room, heavier then the dead bodies laying around them. Pidge leaned her head back until it hit the wall behind her. “Your problem is now the giant power vacuum.”

Lotor looked down at her, “Are you suggesting something?”

“I’m suggesting that you don’t make Lina our problem,” Pidge said, opening her eyes. “If you don’t promise me that you’ll do the right thing, then I won’t walk away. Not after tonight.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve making threats,” Zethrid said, standing.

“I just want to be clear about where we stand,” Pidge said.

“She is our enemy,” Acxa said to Lotor. “Why is she here?”

“I don’t know if you guys remember,” Ezor said. “But she kind of saved our lives, don’t you two think you owe her at least an, I don’t know, a chance?”

Acxa didn’t reply or respond, she only started out the entryway to the steps. Pidge stood, feeling Zethrid’s gaze fall on her. Zethrid stood too as Lotor himself began the walk towards the shuttle. She stared down at Pidge and then clapped her hard on the back. Pidge almost puked but to her credit remained upright.

“You’re tiny,” Zethrid said, “But you got heart.”

Pidge would take that.

As they walked down the steps, Lotor leading the way, Ezor asked, “So what now?”

“We’re leaving,” he said. “I have some business to take care of off world but by the end of the next sun cycle we’re pulling out. We need to return to the Empire.”

“Aw,” Ezor said, jumping past Pidge. “It was so pretty here.”

“I, for one am glad,” Zethrid growled, “This place is too quiet.”

Pidge kept her stride but she came to a conclusion by the time they were at the bottom of the stairs. This would be a good time for her to leave the party too. As she passed Ezor, Pidge pretended to trip on the steps. She hit Ezor hard on the back. The two disentangled themselves and Ezor gave Pidge a look, but didn’t notice the present that Pidge left her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you wanted Myko to meet a horrific end after the last chapter, I hope this satisfied?


	6. Renegade

Chapter 6: Renegade

Morning came and Lotor did not fetch her from the room. Which was fine by her because she had battery acid, extracted from the bathroom door, boiling on the stove. She herself sat on the floor in the living room in a spread of computer, oven, and fridge parts. She fiddled with a small explosive release latch, also stolen from the bathroom door. She looked down at the intricate blue prints she had sketched out last night.

Putting together the communicator was the easy part. Within thirty hours of sending off Petra and the others, Pidge was capable of receiving the confirmation that Hunk had picked them up in the yellow lion. The Green Lion was in Galra hands, on the outpost in the system. She was promised it’s release in a reasonable time frame. Pidge told them her plans, and received an extraction point.

The only real certainty Pidge had, as she assembled her new little invention and finished her final touches, was that she wasn’t going to wait for the generals and Lotor to hunt her down. The next thing Pidge knew was that she was far too injured for it to be clean on any level. Yet, she was unwilling to drag the rest of the team planet side and deal with the fallout that would entail. Nor did she have time to wait that long.

When all her preparations were complete, and the kitchen cleaned up, Pidge sat down on the couch in the living room.

She finished her device and clamped the thin bracelet around her left wrist. Pidge cleaned up in the kitchen, assembled the next part of the plan, that was then attatched to the computer hard drive in the bedroom, and took another shower. Dressed and with her hair still wet she finished her article about Lina’s economy and then started one on the planet’s history. She was calm as she scrolled through the pages, letting her body rest.

The sun was at it’s highest point in the sky when her front door opened. In stepped two of the mercenaries, unarmed except for batons on their hips. Pidge put her data pad down on the couch beside her with a sigh.

“Get up,” the first guard ordered.

Pidge did not move.

The guard reached out for her. His hand didn’t even latch onto her wrist before Pidge reversed his grip, stood, and punched him in the throat. She twisted the baton out of his grip and smashed it against his head. She moved around him, blocked the over head strike from the other guard and cracked the baton against his ribs. Pidge hit the first guard again to drop him and then turned to jam the baton’s end against the gut of the second. She grabbed his face and drove her knee into it. When she let him go, he collapsed.

Pidge walked into the kitchen and set the baton on the counter. In the kitchen she got a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. Pidge pulled up the holo projector on her right wrist and watched the small red dot enter the apartment on the radar. She sipped from her glass, letting the cold water soothe her rough throat and giving her shaking hands something to do.

Pidge raised her left hand, pointed at the corner of the room where the dot was and activated the bracelet. Three electrodes shot out from her wrist and struck true into Ezor’s side. She screamed as she dropped to the floor, 50,000 volts of electricity now pumping through her body was plenty to put her down.

“Glad that worked,” Pidge said.

Pidge stepped over Ezor, who twitched ineffectively. Just as Pidge slipped into the dinning room the front door opened again. She drew back and listened. The bedroom door opened, and shut immediately. Pidge moved around the center wall to avoid Acxa and counted to fifteen in her head. She was only a second off before the explosion went off.

The blast rocked the entire apartment and building, vibrating the windows. It did not blow through the metal walls but the sound was enough to cause Pidge jump about a foot in the air, her hands flying up to cover her ears. She was stunned that her improvised explosive device had managed to blow with that much force.However, Pidge was disappointed, when she turned the corner and came face-to-chest with Zethrid.

Pidge backed up several strides, catching Axca enter the room into the dinning room with her left eye. She breathed deep.

“Check on Narti,” Zethrid told Axca, her voice was cold like iron and murder was in her eyes. “I’ll finish up here.”

It was at this point, that as Pidge imagined herself as a paint smear on the wall, that all bets were off. With her injuries and her exhaustion and the sheer size difference, one hit from Zethrid would kill her.

Pidge backed up from Zethrid, loosening her coat sleeves from her arms and when Zethrid swung she ducked low. Pidge yanked off her jacket and threw it into Zethrid face, at the same time she ducked under Zethrid arm. With all the strength she had Pidge drove her palm into Zethrid’s underarm, striking into the sweet point and dislocating the arm. Pidge had no illusion that this would stop her but it did double her enough that Pidge could grab Zethrid’s head by the jacket, tighten it, and then slam her face down against the counter edge.

Pidge let Zethrid draw back up and then hit her again. When Pidge slammed her face down, she extended her arm, putting her full weight into each strike. She bounced Zethrid face off the counter ten times, until her hands realized what she was doing, and she let go. Pidge stood back and watched Zethrid slump, nothing but adrenaline running through her. She spat.

Acxa.

Pidge picked up the very glass she had been drinking from earlier and threw it, it smashed against the wall, just a foot short of Acxa’s head. Acxa ducked low, and started to draw her pistol, Pidge smacked her elbow and hooked her across the face. Acxa blocked Pidge’s second punch, and drew her pistol out this time, Pidge grasped Acxa’s wrist and stayed to the outside of her body in a desperate bid to avoid getting shot.

Pidge kneed Acxa in the groin and she doubled, only to push into Pidge’s shoulders to slam her against the counter. Acxa pushed on her hand holding the pistol, trying to dislodge Pidge’s grip, only for it to pin against the counter top as Pidge fell back. Pidge wrapped her legs around Acxa’s body. Acxa gritted her teeth as she slowly began to slide the pistol along the counter, tracing an arc toward’s Pidge’s head. She pinned Pidge with the other hand, pressing down on her chest.

Pidge gritted her teeth as she lost the battle of strength. She twisted her hips down, pulling Acxa to the side and using the leverage to straighten and lock her arm. Pidge reached out with her free hand, she found a fork on the dish drain and stabbed it into Acxa’s arm, through her sleeve. Acxa growled but she brought her elbow down across Pidge’s jaw, stunning her for a second. She ate another punch for that.

Acxa brought the pistol down to whip Pidge, but Pidge blocked and twisted her arm around Acxa’s and then in one twist of her hips, distended the elbow with a nasty pop. The gun dropped into the sink. Acxa grabbed Pidge’s knee and pulled her off the counter. Pidge hit the ground, the breath leaving her with a gasp. Acxa attempted to jump onto Pidge but she caught her in the chest with her foot and threw Acxa over her head.

Both of them stood now, gasping. Pidge was reaching the end of her leash, she could feel it. She was scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel. Acxa reached down, and popped her elbow back into place with a sick crunch.

“Ow,” Pidge said sympathetically.

“You’re better then I thought,” Acxa said, circling her. “You’re on the wrong side of this war.”

“It’s a war,” Pidge spat. “There is no wrong side, because there is no ‘right’. C'mon, I got a date.”

Acxa lead in with a straight punch, reverse, straight. It was the same pattern Pidge saw when they fought the other day. She was a great fighter, but, she was not like Pidge. Acxa preferred a weapon in her hands and Pidge was an national lightweight champion as a teenager, famous for going rounds beyond what she should’ve been able to. For coming out on top at the end. For taking the abuse, finding her opening, and repaying it all in kind.

Acxa struck Pidge’s elbows, even as Pidge drew into herself, hands covering her face tight. She adjusted her stance, both toes pointed forward until Acxa instinctively drew back, looking for her next angle. That was when Pidge jabbed in. She struck Acxa across the face and punched into her gut and ribs, each strike calculated to be hard, fast, and to place the most damage as Pidge could manage. Pidge did not let up, she kept pushing forward and around Acxa, knowing that even a second of hesitation could turn the tides of the fight and cost Pidge it all together. This was all she had left.

Pidge blocked Acxa’s fast hook to break her momentum and then spun over her center. She back handed Acxa hard across the jaw and that was all Acxa could take, she collapsed. Pidge went over to the sink, picked up the pistol, and pointed it down at Acxa. Acxa splayed out across the floor, hairs loose from her bun, breathing, but incompacitated.She was knocked out, and Pidge didn’t find it in her to pull the trigger; even at the edge, some things went even deeper then just nature. Pidge tucked the pistol into her waist band.

She left the apartment and quietly closed the door behind her. The fire alarms had gone off and the guests were streaming out into the hall. Pidge entered their stream and stood in the elevator, elbow-to-elbow, looking like she got put through a meat grinder. There wasn’t much on her mind as she waited for the elevator to reach the parking garage other then that she was going to give Hunk hell for not telling her about the cook book.

Escape from Alcatraz

She got the memo in the parking garage and a second later felt the connection between them open up like a channel. There was no way to describe the sensation of the lion. It was her blood stream, her deep conscious, greater then words, and more intuitive then thought. It just was. What had been dreadful silence filled with a comforting sensation of being, far away but there.

Pidge pushed her stride when she went on the street. Not so fast to appear like she had somewhere to be not so slow anyone got a second look at her face. She had mapped her route last night and memorized it from there. She found the trains station. She sat on a bench, reading the local news, and resting her tired body as she waited for the train to come.

The metal bullet swung into station, humming with the magnetic forces it used to keep itself afloat and running. In the crowded train she bumped elbows with aliens who didn’t give her a second glance. Pidge was calm when she got off the tram two hours later, far off in the country side of Lina.

Pidge walked three miles to the small town. Shuttles passed her over head, following the white painted ground towards the next destination. The small town was nothing but a community of miners doing their best strip mining minerals off the mountain side. There wasn’t much to be found, and it was a dying occupation but these people seemed to get by. The ones she passed didn’t pay much attention other then a cursory glance.

It was nothing but colony box houses, stacked on each other into make-shifts apartments. The quality of life here was squalor, compared to the boisterous and richness of Lina. Even as Pidge found the address she was looking for, shuttles hurdled on over head, never stopping or landing. There was nothing to be found here.

Pidge rang the bell and the contact opened the door with frightened, shifting eyes. He was a Unullu, skinny, he rushed Pidge in. “I didn’t realize you would come so soon,” he said. “You look, look horrible!”

“I had to fight my way out,” Pidge said. She looked around the apartment, three kids sat at a table playing with brightly colored action figures over trays of freeze-dried veggies. “All I need from you is shelter and pain medication. I’m handling my own extraction now.”

“Well, that’s good,” the Unullu sighed. “I didn’t think I could do it, it’s been years since I was active with the Route, I didn’t think they would ever ask me again. Listen, do you have to stay here? My kids–”

“I can leave if it’s a problem,” Pidge said, as she followed him through the house. In the bathroom he gave her a red pill that she took dry. It was strong, she felt it’s effects almost immediately.

“No, well, yes,” he said. “It’s just that there’s so much surveillance on this planet.”

“Even out here?” Pidge asked.

“There’s eyes everywhere,” he said. “You walked in through the front door, I knew I shouldn’t’ve done this.”

So that was the cover story Allura ran with. Ironic.

Overhead a heavy whine sounded out, echoing through the house. The characteristic sound of a ship engine going through the landing cycle. Pidge went to the front room and peered out the window. Landing in the very center of the town was a galra frigate ship. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered. “I just got here.”

How did he find her? Not the tracker? No. The communications. Unsecured, weak channels. Not encountering her in the morning, sending the guards, and then the generals but not himself. He had been off world, he said so, did he just arrive? Where had Lotor gone this morning?

“Oh, no,” the Unullu said. “Oh, no, no.”

The kids had stopped playing, they stared at her with big eyes.

“Take your kids,” Pidge said. “Go out the back. I’ll stall them.”

The Unullu didn’t need to be told twice. He gathered his protesting children and hurried them on. Pidge darkened the front window’s tint with a switch on the side wall. She waited until she heard the back door open and then shut before she considered her plan. She realized she had none, so she decided she would wing it.

She found the sink and drank water directly from it. She was starving so she finished off the kid’s food, shoving it into her mouth and promising she’d handle any infection later. She needed food in her stomach, so it wasn’t time to be picky.

She went back to the window, pistol in hand, and looked back at the ship. Off the ramp walked Lotor and a small platoon of sentries. An alien was talking to him and pointed him towards the apartment that Pidge was in. Lotor’s eyes flicked up to it and Pidge pushed back from the from the window. Well, it looked like she was going to fulfill her personal promise to Allura today after all.

It was like the entire community just vanished. Where there had been kids in the streets, they hid. Pidge imagined that they had seen this song and dance before. Some big jerk comes stomping in looking for something stupid. Best duck your head and hope your walls are bullet proof.

“Okay,” Pidge said. She did not have a lot of energy, and she did have not a lot of strength. There was only one thing she needed though, and that was time.

Pidge used her bracelet to hack the electronic lock of the front door and short the circuit, then pushed through the house. These buildings were built interconnected, sealed off by locked doors but she made short work of the locks. Pidge had pushed into the next apartment and had the door circuit fried by the time Lotor was puzzling out the first.

Pidge crept through the next apartment, pistol in hand. It was dark and odd objects was strewn all across the floor. She stepped over a toy set and into the center room. It was while passing through the living room, did she get the feeling of being watched. Pidge’s eyes searched to her right and she saw them. A mother, a father, and a little one, huddled in the corner, eyes wide. A sentry darkened the front window.

How did they?

Her heat signature. Her unique, human, heat signature. Lotor was going to hunt her down like a dog.

Pidge looked down at the family.

“Stay low,” she ordered.

She turned on the door, aiming the pistol at where the sentry would appear. Pidge took several deep breaths, stilling her heart beat and easing the shake in her hands. Each second as the door worked through it’s automatic locking process was a small eternity where she drilled her mind into submission. She was a woman without limit. Her mind would give before she did. Pull the trigger when the door opens.

She did, and the slug smashed into the sentry’s face plate. Pidge surged out the door, she was on the second story and she jumped the railing to the lower catwalk. She caught Lotor’s shocked face over her shoulder before a hail of laser beams forced Pidge into a tight alleyway. It was barely wider then her shoulders and she had to shimy down the length of the building. She burst out in time for a drone to attempt to follow, and shoot at her.

Pidge scrambled to her feet from the ground. She was in the center of the apartments. Pidge turned over her shoulder and shot the drone trying to follow her through the alley. Attached to the wall to her right was a ladder and she started up it. With each rung she climbed her body burned with the exertion of pulling herself up but she dragged herself to her feet at the top.

Pidge dove to the side as the door to the apartment she was facing opened and a drone shot at her. She shot back, missed, and then swung low, smashed her pistol against it’s knee then tossed it over the edge of the building. She pushed into the apartment, stamping her way through the living quarters.

She moved through the next one, sealing the door behind her. She could feel them, moving parallel to them. God, she had always lost to Matt in chess. She moved back outside, clambered up a ladder to the third story, and was confronted by Lotor in some poor guys living room.

He stood, blocking her exit, she could feel the drone at the door behind her. She turned and shot it, the slug crushing it’s chest plate, tossing it off the ladder and into the ground below. She trained the pistol back at Lotor. Before either of them could move she sealed the front door to their apartment and the door behind her. There was one way and it was through him.

She trained the pistol on Lotor and pulled the trigger. He dodged low and she stumbled back, shooting without catching her bead. None of her shots hit. He swept the pistol out of the way and drove his hand into her ribs. Pidge screamed, the pain ripping even through medicine enabled mind. The pistol dropped.

Lotor moved to draw his sword but she pushed herself back and his hand hit the wall. He sheathed the sword and she drove her knee into his groin. She hit armor. Lotor twisted her arm over, attempting to force her shoulder down but she dropped to her knees and hooked her hand into calf. She yanked hard and he fell back.

He kicked her in the chest and once again tried to draw his sword as he stood. She smashed her hand down on his, and forced it back into it’s sheath. He punched her. She curled her fist into a chunk of his hair and yanked back his head. His hand grasped the back of her head, his other twisted into her arm and he slammed her face first into the wall.

Her arm was twisted tight around her back and he gasped for breath as he held her there.

“I hate killing you,” he said. “But I can’t let you walk away.”

“Don’t worry” Pidge hissed, “It’s not personal.”

She reversed the grip on her arm and came around with a hard hook to his jaw. His head whipped back and Lotor fell against the kitchen table. Pidge came in on him swinging, he blocked each punch, and then snatched her wrist, locking it between them. He pulled her against him, struggling, his hand curling against her throat. Pidge head butted him and forced him down onto the table. Her hands crossed over each other to lock around his throat.

For a moment they struggled, his hands curling around her locked wrists, his face turning a deeper shade of purple as she choked him. She could hear the slight hisses of his breath, how he choked. Her arms shook with the exertion but she did not let up.

Lotor picked her up by the hips and tossed her across the room. Pidge landed in a heap amongst the coffee table, which shattered under her weight. Glass cut her arms as she pushed herself up and then rolled to the side as Lotor bore down on her with the sword. Pidge darted around him. They both found that he didn’t have the room for a full swing when it hit the ceiling on down strike.

Pidge darted in, grabbed his wrist and then pushed down on his sword hand. He struck at her and she caught his other hand. He pushed down at her and they stumbled between each other, her gasping breath and his loud growls the only noise in the room. Then he suddenly changed his momentum and she was pushed onto the kitchen counter.

Her hand still gripped his sword hand and the tip of the sword pressed against the counter top. He leveraged the edge towards her exposed throat. Once again it became about strength and she surprised them both. There was a point at the edge of the human body, when all stops were pulled, and that moment was here for Pidge. She did not push him back but only overcame his leverage, saving herself from a slit throat, with the sheer tenacity of terrified and pissed little girl. She gathered saliva in her mouth and spat in his eye. Lotor stumbled back, hand coming to his eye and she rolled over the kitchen counter.

She stumbled through the kitchen towards the door and burst through. She did not lock it behind her, instead she tore through the apartments. She did not take her time, the trap was closing and when Pidge slid out on the highest story catwalk she did it to face down three drones, all in line to the stairs to the roof. She growled in her throat, and jumped over the catwalk railing to the adjacent window in the apartment.

Her fingers gripped the window seal edges; blood ran down her arms in hot lines as she braced her foot against the window edge and then pushed up. Pidge grasped onto the buildings ledge and then swung her leg up. A sharp pain pierced her other leg and she almost lost her grip, threatening to plunge her six stories to the ground. Her fingers found purchase in the smooth metal and she hauled herself up.

Pidge rolled over onto her back, clutching at her knee where the laser had hit her thigh. She gasped and limped to one foot, blood seeping between her fingers. Lotor climbed onto the roof by the stairs, sword drawn, flanked by drones that did not shoot her. Pidge gaped for breath.

“It’s a shame, Katie,” Lotor shouted over the howling wind. “That you’ve fought so long to find your family, and loose it all in the end.”

Her name fell from his lips like a curse, a reeling jab in her heart that dragged out emotions long buried. All it’s implications, all it’s meaning. Her name, a strange secret. A searing rage came with it, a deep, burning sensation of pain and agony. If Pidge had been a woman starving in the desert, this was a fleck of rain with no clouds. Sweet and so terrible.

Overhead a shuttle flew by, unaware of the stand off underneath it.

“He’s dead,” Lotor said. “I had my soldiers kill him right after I found him, I told him you were dead. That I had killed you. I wanted to see the pain on his face before he took his last breath.”

Her eyes were focused, a tunnel of vision, straight on him. With each word he spoke, she could see a layer of his character peel away. A small truth was handed to her, only feeding her insatiable curiosity. He was unraveling right before her, but she couldn’t define why, was it her?

“This Katie,” Lotor said. “Is the bottom of the pit. One last time, I’ll give you the option, follow me. Follow me and we can fix this mess of a galaxy, end the war! There can be peace! It’ll all be easier if we work together, we can have what we want.”

She closed her eyes. She inhaled, exhaled, a collapse, and an expansion. A take and a give. There is a truth to all things, the essence that holds the universe together. For twenty-two years Pidge had chased it, trying to find it’s rationality. The reason for war. The reason for peace. The reason for love. The reason for hate. The truth. In her heart it beat, beyond her feeble reach and it spoke the Truth. Only once had Pidge listened to it. What she knew beyond knowing.

She opened her eyes.

“He’s not dead,” Pidge said.

A shuttle flew by and the wind tugged at her shirt.

“I know he’s not and you know he’s not,” she said. “I know it now like I knew it all those years ago when I was standing at his grave. I can’t see him but I can still feel that he’s alive, and even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t give up here.”

It was like the last layer of the facade had fallen. This was his attempt at picking up her string and unraveling the knot that made her. But there was no knot, the clarity of her heart did not yield to his feeble attempt to crush her. There was no hidden to trick to Pidge, no deep, dark secret; She knew who she was, she knew what she was going to do, and she knew how she was going to do it.

“You don’t know me,” Pidge said. “But I know you. At first I thought you were veiled and stoic, but now I see, that there’s nothing under that armor. You’re as dead as Zarkon. I’m not like you because I am alive and I don’t live for the people I love, I live because of them. I’ve grown, I’ve learned so many things, met so many people, but it’s been years and you haven’t changed at all. You’re not your father but he still haunts you even now, years after he’s died. You’re so obsessed with overcoming Zarkon you can’t see how he’s destroying you from the inside out.”

“I’m stronger then him, I will be stronger then him!” Lotor said. “He doesn’t control me anymore!”

“Yet, he does!” Pidge said. “Everyday you try to be someone you’re not, he’s controlling you! You’re the type of person who laughs over dumb jokes and takes strangers on dates because you want someone to talk to you in a real way! You’re not an evil monster, you’re a person with flaws, but for some reason you’re afraid.”

He walked closer to her, he was vibrating with rage, something deep and hidden. A rejection inside him. What he was born to be, and what he was, and what he was meant to be. All these things, tearing him apart.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said. “You can choose freedom Lotor, you don’t have to be a slave anymore! You can be who you want to be but you have to choose to live!”

She backed away from him, limping over her leg. “That’s what I did.”

Lotor looked up, gaping at the sky as the Green lion broke the atmosphere and rocketed towards them. Pidge’s eyes did not leave him as her lion, healed and regal, raced towards them. Wind whipped at Lotor’s hair as Green turned up at the last second and landed, delicately on the top of the apartment. Lotor backed away, his teeth gritting but he didn’t give the command to fire and Pidge turned back into her Lion without a second glance at him.

She thought only of home.

End of Act 1


	7. Grown Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That 'Hunk' tag finally pays off.

Chapter 7: Grown Ocean

She reached X-29 first, landing Green on a rock outcrop overlooking the acid lakes. That planet was either a too hot strip of equator or a frigid wasteland, they had found a thin strip of temperate plain. Fields stretched out for miles, reminding Pidge of the flat lands of Colorado and Oklahoma on Earth. Pidge turned the collar of her coat up and she leaned against Green’s paw to break the bitter wind as she waited for Hunk. 

Pidge wore dark gray pants made of a smooth, form fitting fabric, the boots, and a new, white tank-top. The jacket she wore was heavy and worn, bought off the back of a random alien because it had forest green arm bands and she was tired of wearing purple. Around her right knee was a tight black brace, keeping pressure on her healing wound.

The Yellow Lion appeared in the sky to the due East. She waited for Hunk to land with a grin, her hands tucked into her arm pits to keep them warm. Per usual, Hunk screwed his landing, hovering the lion several hundred feet in the air as he nervously tried to find the right angle to put Yellow down at. Pidge watched the lion get impatient and slam itself down.

She laughed.

Hunk exited through the bay doors and jogged over to her, wearing full armor.

“Holy cow!” He shouted, “you’re alive!

She pushed off Green’s paw, only to be swept up into a giant hug as he lifted her off the ground and squeezed her tight. “Oh, God, Hunk, my ribs!”

“Ah, sorry,” he said, putting her down, he brushed some dust off her shoulders. “You look like you got put through a meat grinder.”

Pidge still had some bruises on her cheeks. While her ribs were mostly healed and she could at least walk on her leg now, she had to admit. He was right.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Pidge said, sternly. “That you had a cookbook?”

Hunk froze.“How did you–”

“You know I’m really hurt,” Pidge said, crossing her arms.

“Why would you care?” Hunk asked.

“What if I wanted to learn how to cook like the Master?” Pidge asked, incredulous.

“You have me!”

“I’m not sure,” Pidge said, “That I can just forgive you. I want a signed copy.”

“I only published like, a few thousand,” he said, scratching the back of his head “I kinda did it so I could get this weird guy I met at the space mall off my back. I have a couple data pads of it in the castle? No, no focus, what were you thinking?”

“About what?” She asked innocently.

“Taking on Lotor alone!” Hunk said. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“What about those slaves?” Pidge asked. “No, they’re not slaves anymore, Petra and Detran? And the others? You got them right?”

“They’re on the castle ship,” Hunk said. “Petra and Keith are getting along like a house on fire, it’s scary.

“The other three?”

“I’m no so sure Pidge,” Hunk said. “Allura was talking about sending them to a rehabilitation facility but there’s not many resources for people that, that’s been done to. It really makes me mad, they’re almost catatonic, it’s like their entire personality has been destroyed.”

She walked back to Green’s paw and pushed herself up on to it. “I killed the guy who did it to them.”

“You’ve had a wild few days,” Hunk said, “haven’t you? Can I get the play-by-play? I’m a little confused.”

“I was on my way back from the outpost,” Pidge said. “When Lotor appeared out of nowhere, I attempted to retreat but he got the jump on me and shot me down on one of the planets in Lina’s system. He and his generals captured me, or I surrendered, depends on how you look at. However, it seems like he was trying to recruit me? Anyway, we had dinner and that’s when I learned about your cookbook. I ended up going to a party with him while he was trying to deal with this creepy slaver named Myko. I freed the slaves, killed Myko, and then the next day I kicked the Generals and Lotor’s asses and now here I am.”

“Pidge,” Hunk said. “How did you take on Lotor and the generals?”

“I mean,” she said. “It was separate. It was the generals and then Lotor, plus a platoons worth of sentries.”

He turned out his hands, as if asking her to think about what she just said.

“I used an improvised explosive,” she said. “A tracker I peeled out of my back, a taser I made out of a computer battery, a shit ton of determination and advanced psychology on Lotor.”

“So, why are we here?” Hunk said. “Keith basically told me nothing other then that you’ve gone rogue and need to be dragged back, by the hair if necessary. I told him you didn’t have enough hair to be dragged by but I don’t think he listened.”

“I am the closest I have ever been to finding my father,” Pidge said. “And you’re going to help me find him.”

“Woah, really?” Hunk asked. “That’s great, I mean, I am?”

“Lotor talked to him,” Pidge said. “If Lotor left right around eleven PM Earth time, he returned about twenty-four hours later. I don’t know how long he talked to Dad, but I estimate he’s within ten FTL hours of Lina since Lotor’s frigate doesn’t have a teleduv. Not only that, he returned with a platoon of sentries, meaning he had to go to a Galra base. I checked the outpost in the Lina system and he didn’t stop there. There’s not many bases in this area, Hunk.”

“So you don’t just have a lead,” Hunk said. “You think he’s physically close. What if Lotor tries to use this as blackmail or hurts him?”

“He won’t,” Pidge said.

“How do you–”

“He won’t,” she repeated. “So, are you in?”

“You know we’re kinda fighting a war right now,” Hunk said. “And everyone is really worried about you and Keith’ll kill me if I end up swayed by your puppy dog eyes…”

“I can’t go back to the castle,” Pidge said. “I told Keith that when the time came, all bets were off, I will put my family first. Well, that time is now. So, I’m doing this, the question is if you’re in or not. So are you?”

“Of course I’m in,” Hunk said.

“Alright!” Pidge crowed. “Left side represent!”

She held out her hand and they traded high-fives.

“So,” Hunk said. “What’s the plan?’

“Lotor could find Dad easy and quick,” She said. “Which means he was well registered, but on a level that I can’t easily access through hacking your average base’s intel list. So my guess is that Dad is working on the design level.

“The design level?” Hunk asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s the level that Slav was on,” Pidge said. “It’s pretty shadowy around there, but it’s slaves that are extorted by the Galra to design ships, technology, weapons. I mean, this is just a hunch, but hunches have gotten me this far so, hey. Dad designed the ship for the Kerberos mission and he’s smarter then me and you combined times two. I have no doubt that the Galra would be salivating to get their hands on some of his work once he figured out FTL.”

“So if it’s all so shady at that level,” Hunk said. “How are we going to find him?”

“Why, Hunk, I’m so glad you asked,” She grinned. “You see, in my adventures I encountered a kindly gentlemen who gave me the coordinates to a black market eight FTL hours from Lina.”  
“And if there’s anywhere,” Hunk said. “That news of an ultra hidden Galra base would hit, it’s a black market.”

“All bases have to be supplied,” Pidge added.

“Dude,” Hunk said. “We could actually find your Dad, how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly?” She asked.

“Honestly.”

“I’m terrified,” She said. “I’m afraid of what I’ll find. I’m excited too, and a little wary, I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

He put his hand on her shoulder, “We got this.”

She laid her hand overtop, “yeah, we got this.”

Hunk held out his fist. She fist bumped him and they worked through their little secret handshake. Before ending in a wrapped hug.

“Hey,” She said. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Lance?” Hunk asked. “Tied up in the Aley system still, trying to kick the Galra out with Shiro. Keith’s still in the black lion but Shiro’s, you know, Shiro. He’s like three of us.”

“Shall we hit that black market?” Pidge asked.

“Let’s do it.”

Hunk walked back to his lion but Pidge waited a minute before she climbed into Green. The grass swayed with the stripping wind, she still relished in it. She prayed again, a silent plea, a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, and an appeal for her father. She had no idea if God would listen or even cared to listen to her, but it was all she had.


	8. Montezuma

Pink ladies dancing with slender arms, gyrating their hips into submission in the most universal job Pidge had ever encountered. Dancing in various stages of undress to fast beat music. That music vibrated her brain within her skull and she was certain that extended exposure would reduce it to goo. Hunk, who was fending off the advances of a rather aggressive alien lady, looked equally uncomfortable.

“I think that’s our guy,” Pidge said to Hunk, leaning in close so he could hear her. She looked at the alien lady who had draped herself across his lap. Hunk’s hands pressed into the vinyl seating to avoid any compromising incidents. “Hey, Lady, beat it. Shoo. Get. He has a boyfriend!”

The alien scowled at Pidge, poked Hunk on the nose, and exited his lap. Hunk groaned before looking back at Pidge. Pidge looked out over the club, towards another table on the opposite end of the dance floor. A blue light hung over him, casting odd shades on his orange skin. His long, lizard like tail twitched by his ankles as he read a data pad. Sitting on his shoulder was a ruby red bird, about the size of a small house cat, with long, elegant tale feathers almost twice it’s length.

“Rolo said that the guy would have a bird with him,” Pidge said.

“They serve food here,” Hunk said. “Is he allowed to bring that in?”

“You can’t eat that!” Pidge said. “That’s his pet!”

“Pidge, I’m talking about sanitation.”

She stood from the table and cut around the dance floor, where aliens threw their legs and arms about in comical flails that might’ve been attractive to a trained eye. Pidge slid into the booth opposite the contact. Hunk hadn’t followed her and had instead sealed his butt to his seat. Hunk gave her eyes, Pidge rolled hers.

“What are you looking for?” The alien asked.

“A potted plant,” Pidge said.

The alien extended a hand over the table and they shook hands.

“It’s an honor to work with a Paladin of Voltron,” The alien sad. “My grandmothers always told me legends and stories. You might’ve noticed that I’m a Lanexter. I have family on the home world, they’re free because of you, so I’m grateful. Still, I can tell you’re not used to be undercover.”

“I’ve never been a good liar,” Pidge grinned crooked.

“You walk across the room too certain,” he said. “You have a destination, which gives you a way immediately. You’re a soldier, through and through, aren’t you?”

“I’m a military brat,” Pidge said. “Walking like I need to kill a man is in my DNA. I’ll take your advice on board though.”

“Rogin,” he said.

“Pidge,” she said.

“So, Pidge,” Rogin said. “What did you do to piss off the Prince of the Galra Empire? He has a bounty on your head for thirty million gak and I guess we have an hour before a small army formulates with plans to detach your it.” He looked at his device. “Really, Forty-five minutes.”

“I insulted his mother,” Pidge said.

Rogin laughed heartily. “I’ll take that explanation for now. So what are you looking for?”

“If the Galra needed someone to supply an ultra secret base,” Pidge said. “Who would they go to? And whoever that person is, I need them.”

“Supply an ultra secret base,” Rogin repeated, he shifted in his seat. “You know I’m only your guide to the blackmarket right? Whatever doors you break down, you’ll have to do yourself and I’m not going to take a slug for you.”

“I got it,” Pidge said. “I prefer to kick down my own doors anyway, in the course of that analogy. So, do you know who I need?”

“The Galra have the Empire to source their supplies for bases,” Rogin said. “However if the base is far enough out of the Empire, it might be easier and cheaper to just purchase it off a market, like you suspect. There’s two things about that. One, that whoever the Galra source from, they’re going to be good, trusted, and very unwilling to lose that source, you’ll have to break some teeth. Honestly, I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell that won’t be a problem. Two, the Galra don’t usually source the Blackmarket for anything but weapons, so any other resource is going to be noticeable.”

“Because they’re looking for someone trustworthy,” Pidge said. “We know that the supplier will be following the rules of the market, right? They have to go through the right channels.”

“You’re correct,” he said. “There’s a handful of suppliers I can think of that fit our specifications. I’ll send you a list of them.”

“Much obliged,” Pidge said. “How would they transport the goods?”

“Not with a Galra ship,” Rogin said, “I can guarantee that. They wouldn’t use a third party transport either. Instead, my guess, is that they would use a company with a fake-front that uses civilian ships but is operated by the Empire.”

“That gets me closer,” Pidge said. Hunk had come over, he had cut a straight path through the dance floor, using his size to jostle aliens out of the way. “Hey, big guy, finally decided to join us?”

“Yes, and no,” Hunk said. “I’m just letting you know that that guy over there has been watching you since you sat down and he does not look happy. Don’t look.”

Pidge looked. Hunk didn’t need to tell her where or who the person was. She could just look and find them, based merely on the instinctual knowledge that the Paladin bond passed between them. Her eyes locked on a table in the corner where three large aliens in dark coats sat, looking sullen. Based on how the coats laid, they wore armor under them.

“Jesus,” Hunk sighed. “Why are you like this?”

“You should scoot,” Pidge said to Rogin, turning back in her chair.

“I’m not worried,” Rogin said, he reached up and petted his bird. “They won’t shoot me in a crowded club.”

“You want to take this out back?” Pidge asked Hunk.

He nodded.

“Stay in touch,” Rogin suggested as Pidge stood. “If you happen across anything worth sharing, don’t hesitate. It’s good to have friends in places like the market.”

“We appreciate it,” Hunk said, putting his hand on Pidge’s back.

“It’s been real!” Pidge said to Rogin as Hunk hurried her away. “Geez, you’re worrying me.”

“I checked the area map,” Hunk said. “There’s a pretty quiet alleyway where we can take care of this.”

“I have a pistol in my waistband,” She said. “You can use it, Since you’re a better shot then me.”

“I doubt it being designed for a seven foot tall alien helps,” Hunk said. “What is that, two-point-five kilo?”

“Pretty close,” Pidge said. “From what I can tell the internal accelerator is oversized for the grip, punches like hell but the recoil is insane. The heat sink is too small as a result and it doesn’t expel properly. It’ll overheat if you don’t watch it.”

“That thing must be like a canon for you,” Hunk said.

“Leaves dents in sentry armor though,” Pidge said.

“Huh.”

Pidge had figured out early on that there were two types of weapons. One was the fancy, high quality weapons that shot concentrated ‘laser’ beams that Galra and Altean weaponry used. Really it was agitated light particles –warped by the same fields used to attain FTL in ships– to have mass. They hit hard and were stupid accurate, causing blunt trauma to the victim, a direct hit with a rifle could crush a rib cage because the spread of forces. They were high energy weapons with almost no recoil and they had an energy clip had to be replaced every few thousand shots, depending on the weapon.

The second was what everyone else in the galaxy had, same technology but simplified. An accelerator hurled tiny slugs, shaved off an internal block of metal that only had to be replaced every twenty thousand rounds or so. It worked just like weapons on Earth, however the action of the accelerator expelled heat. Most weapons had sinks that slowly expelled built up thermal energy over time, making the weapons warm to the touch. Some, like Pidge’s pistol, which built heat up so fast, had manual vents on the non-dominant hand side of the pistol to keep the weapon from melting itself from the inside out.

When they exited out the back door of the club, Hunk reached under her jacket and pulled the pistol from her waistband. He walked down the alley and took a position twenty feet back, standing tall in the middle of the alley. Pidge stayed beside the door, her back pressed to the wall. The door popped open, all three of the agents stepped out. Pidge stayed still, hidden in the shadow, and didn’t move as they stepped past her. They began to draw their weapons, focused on Hunk.

She waited until the last one was even with her before she activated the taser in her bracelet and drove her hand into the small of his back, her other hand coming to latch onto his shoulder. The alien screamed as she pulled him into her grip, using his body as a shield, causing the second agent to hesitate for fear of shooting his ally.

Hunk shot one in the chest and Pidge shoved the third aside. Two had pulled his rifle but she pushed the barrel up, kicked him in the right upper thigh at the weak point of his armor, and shot him in the chest with his own weapon. Pidge was shocked to see it was the first kind of weapon and the laser bolt smashed into his chest at point blank and threw him against the adjacent wall. He slumped at the base of the wall.

“You weren’t kidding,” Hunk said, looking at the pistol. “That cut right through this poor guys armor.”

“Is he dead?” Pidge asked.

“Looks like it,” Hunk said, his voice dark.

That was just how the cookie crumbled. They were fighting a war. People died and sometimes it was their fault. Sometimes Pidge plunged an ice pick into their throat and other times it was Hunk getting a good shot on a mook. It was better not to think about the death tolls on destroyed Galra cruisers. Sometimes she forgot, that these were people, with lives, not toys that could be broken in rage. It was easier to externalize it then internalize it. At the end of the day, Hunk and Pidge would always do what needed to be done.

Pidge dropped to a knee beside the agent she had shot. He was out cold, breathing but the thin inhale told her that a rib had pierced his lung. “I’ll hack a PA for one of the staff in the club, let them stumble on this mess, it’ll be the best we can do for them.”

She rifled the agent’s pockets and pulled out his device. She went to the one Hunk had shot and took his device, “Let’s get out of here.”

Not confident enough to carry a rifle through a crowded street, Pidge tossed the weapon into the dumpster as they passed it. Hunk tucked the pistol into his own waistband as they turned out onto the main avenue of the city. A combination of the shuttles, people, music, and general city chaos had drowned out the sounds of the fight. No one looked at them twice.

They stopped about six blocks out to sit on a park bench while Pidge worked some magic with the devices. She wiped one, added some command codes, and handed it to Hunk. The other she wiped as well but downloaded her full arsenal of electronic warfare tools to it. Petra, Hunk, and the rest of the team had what was a Swiss army knife of commands, but not close to the full function of her coding. Mostly because only Pidge could puzzle out the full, complex system she used for her hacking. What they had let them do what they need to do with ease, and what she had let her do what she needed to do with ease. 

“We need to be careful with our communications,” Pidge said. “I think Lotor was listening to us on Lina, that was how he found me once I had escaped. He only had to wait for me to show up at the extraction point.”

“Personal device-to-device should be secure,” Hunk said.

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “But we need to avoid sending anything to the castle or use a heavy jargon if we do. I only got away with the initial message because I used someone else’s communicator. If we use the priority line too much they’ll be able to route that signal too.”

“We’ll need to tell Allura that we’re going dark,” Hunk said.

“I’ll use a secondary line for that,” Pidge said. “Keith and Shiro might fly out here just to kill us on principle though.”

“Yeah, but then they have to find a new yellow and green paladin,” Hunk said. “After the black lion fiasco I think we’re all very invested in not having to do it again.”

“Haha,” Pidge laughed. “Can you imagine someone having to figure out all the crap I’ve put on green? I’m not sure me and Green know all the crap I’ve put on Green.”

“Who do you think those guys were?” Hunk asked.

“I didn’t find a lot on their devices,” PIdge said. “I think they might’ve been bounty hunters for Lotor. I bet we’re being followed.”

“We’ll have to keep moving,” Hunk said. “What are we hitting first?”

“The market,” Pidge said. “The literal market. I need something better then these.”

She held out her left wrist, where the bracelet with the taser was attached. It was a one hit wonder for the charge. It was but a prototype of spare parts, she couldn’t expect much from it but she needed something better. Hunk did too. The decision to not wear armor was about stealth and the fact that Lotor still had hers. However he didn’t have his bayard because of it.

“I can pick up some parts,” Hunk said, “to fix the heat sink for the pistol.”

“Also, let’s us get a better sense for the city.”

“Agreed.”


	9. If You Need To, Keep Time on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I was an idiot posting these things at midnight for the past two days, I accidentally mixed up the order of my chapters. I've fixed it. Probably doesn't change that much, but if you're wondering what happened, Kinshula fell victim to Hubris.  
> That's what happened.

The tight cryo suit clung to the, sinewy, scaly body of Narti as she rested in the pod. It was disgustingly revealing for her, if only because Lotor knew she would not want to be revealed in such a way. Six cracked ribs, 2nd degree burns on the chest and face, a sprained ankle, and two vertebrae in her tail broken, plus other small cuts and bruises from landing on a mirror. Zethrid had to have a minor surgery on her face to put a bone chip back in her forehead. Acxa was still nursing a concussion and her elbow. Ezor had bounced back the quickest, but it took her two days to regain full mobility.

Lotor had known she was good, but this exceeded expectations.

How did the girl know how to create an explosive device powerful enough to blow a hole in a building? Where did she get a 50,000 volt taser? She set a perfect trap. She had manipulated Acxa, Lotor figured she had held back in the sparring match, but to do so with such intentionality? Lotor had left knowing that she was going to try to escape but figured he was returning with such a trump card that it would halt her in her tracks.

“He’s not dead,” Lotor repeated to himself.

So certain. Speaking with Samuel Holt was a revelation, although many of the things he said only clicked in retrospect.

 

(Lotor stood by the window as the guard walked Samuel Holt into the room. He looked out into the vastness of space, each star millions of light years away. Lotor had been born and raised on ships, the stars were his greatest companion. Lotor turned, Samuel stood in the middle of the room, dressed in heavy cargo pants, a black tank-top, and his long gray hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He had a three day scruff around his face, still showing hints of a golden-brown.

“Take a seat,” Lotor said, gesturing to the chair set out for him. Samuel sunk into the chair. He had maintained a strong physique, muscly sinew twined his thin arms.

“I don’t know who I owe the pleasure,” Samuel said.

“Prince Lotor,” Lotor said, turning to sit down in an opposite chair. “No formalities necessary.”

It was a half-hunch that led him here. It was the sudden memory of an insignificant report that mentioned a human scientist designing space ships for the Empire. He dug a little and one thing lead to another that lead him to here. There was a limit on the amount of humans in space and he couldn’t be certain as he walked in that this would be a connection to Pidge. The moment he laid eyes on Samuel, it was obvious his snooping had paid off.

It was in the way he held himself, the way he walked. The golden eyes that focused with absolute certainty. The confidence. Beyond a doubt, Pidge had taken after her father in mannerism.

“What can I do for you, Prince Lotor?” Samuel asked. “A ship design?”

“No,” Lotor said. “I need you to only identify an individual for me.”

Lotor held out a data pad for Samuel. Samuel reached over and took it. For a moment he stared at the picture, his eyebrows raising in first surprise and then confusion. The picture was of Pidge, taken from Lotor’s security feed on his frigate. She stood on the bridge with her arms crossed and eyes focused somewhere else. The photo had been cropped just above her waist. If Lotor’s estimate was right this was the first picture he had seen of his daughter in six years.

“How?” Samuel asked, a bare gasp. “How do you have this picture?”

“Then you know who she is,” Lotor said.

Samuel didn’t look away from the photo, his hand rubbed over his mouth. This was a man who didn’t have much pride left but whatever he did have, evaporated right before Lotor’s eyes. Samuel’s hand traced over Pidge’s face, following her jaw line, the short cut of her hair, the scowl on her face, and the rage in her eyes.

He looked up at Lotor, desperation in his eyes, “why?”

“She’s an enemy of the Empire,” Lotor said. “Who is she?”

“She’s my daughter,” Samuel said, looking back down at the picture. “Her name is Katie, she’s twenty-three. How did she end up in space? I left her on Earth!”

“It appears,” Lotor said. “That she followed you.”

Samuel shook his head and then leaned back into his seat, hand still covering his mouth. His eyes did not tear from the picture.

“Is this surprising?” Lotor asked.

Samuel looked at the picture, silent for a good minute. A variety of emotions passed through his features. He slowly nodded, pressing his lips together to form a thin line. He opened his mouth to say something, shut it, seemed to sink a little farther into his chair and then ran his hand down the bridge of his nose.

“No, I can’t say I’m surprised” Samuel said. “Katie was always– how do I say this?”

He shifted, but Lotor let him take his time. He was probably eager to talk about his little girl.

“When Katie was ten and Matt was twelve,” Samuel said. “Matt was being bullied in school by an older boy. Matt was always so sweet, he didn’t have a cruel or mean bone his body. We told him to stand up for himself but despite being trained in martial arts since he was a child, he wouldn’t. Well Katie decided that if Matt couldn’t do it, she would. Katie followed the boy home and kicked the crap out of him. She knocked out three of his teeth. His parents refused to believe it. Matt was never bullied in school again.”

“She’s like that as an adult,” Lotor confirmed.

“Your majesty,” Samuel said. “I will do anything, to keep her safe. Anything you need, anything you want.”

Lotor laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not going to kill her, not yet. I wouldn’t be here if I wanted her dead but I need to know more about her.”)

Samuel was an invaluable resource to the Empire and Lotor was certain he was working all the more harder now that he knew about Katie. He chewed on these revelations as he looked at Narti’s sleeping form. Katie wasn’t just convicted, but vengeful too. However as he reflected on the conversation, Lotor had the same feeling that Samuel must’ve had.

That he couldn’t honestly be surprised by this result.

“My Lord.”

Lotor turned. Acxa stood in the door of the med-bay, her face impassive as usual but there was something different in her eyes. A little concern.

“Yes?” He asked.

“There’s,” she began. “There is a high priority message from the capitol ship. It’s on the Emperor’s channel.”

Lotor looked at Acxa for a long moment. He had known her for many years, since they were children. They were not friends even back then. Lotor didn’t have friends and Katie’s stupid idealism was a laughable concept. However, Acxa remained a steady pillar of rationality, someone he could depend on. When their gazes connected, a lot was said, and a lot was left unsaid.

“I’ll answer it in my quarters,” Lotor said calmly.

He walked past Acxa, feeling her gaze on him as he passed. Lotor was emotionless as he walked back to his quarters but something welled under the surface. Perhaps the world was a vivid expression for others but to him it came in muted shades of purple. There were times when things stood out –the golden eyes of an honest girl came to mind– but emotions were hinderances to be pushed down. If he could not control himself, he could not control others.

In his quarters, Lotor ran his fingers through his hair. He stared at the small purple icon on his personal communicator. It was a triangle. It flashed. For some reason, his hands didn’t move but he was stronger then his hands.

Lotor closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

For ticks, he did not move.

The triangle flashed.

He blinked.

He had to surprise himself. He reached out and jammed the button. While the call went through he stepped back into his chair, resting his chin against his fist. Now he did not move. Not a twitch in his fingers, not a breath too deep, nothing but the blank stare of the empty emotion imprinted on the wall of his brain.

The call went through. Haggar’s face appeared on the screen.

“Haggar,” Lotor said. “A pleasure as always.”

“Do not be impertinent with me,” Haggar ordered. “You’ve been wasting time, Prince Lotor, chasing after inconsequential errands on border worlds.”

“I’m sorry,” Lotor said, “Is stabilizing the Empire, which was on the brink of rebellion I might add, and adding to it’s conquests really a failure?”

“Do you wish to be exiled again?” Haggar asked, her voice cold.

“I didn’t realize you had that authority,” Lotor said.

“You are to return to the Capitol ship,” Haggar said. “Immediately. If you do not return, I will consider you a traitor and have you hunted down.”

The feed cut.

Lotor gasped, his elbows coming to rest against his knees. His body racked with each breath he took, his hair following around his face like a curtain. His thumb pressed into the palm of his opposite hand, letting the pain sharpen him, pull him back to cruel reality. He was going to break his hand. It would be easy to crush it, if he would just let go of instinctive limits.

Really, the mind was a chemical trap. It would give out from under him. Betray him. He could not trust himself to it when he slept or when he spoke. Cruel words spilled out of his mouth like poison and he didn’t know where they came from. There was just what had to be done, to keep himself safe, alive. He had to keep treading water or risk drowning in his own genetic heritage.

You’re dead.

She didn’t know what she was saying.

How could Haggar cast such a long shadow? How did that shadow stretch as far as Zarkon’s? His father was dead. He was dead and yet he lived, somewhere, in the back of Lotor’s consciousness. There were somethings about this he couldn’t name. Old, bad memories that didn’t deserve to be dredged up that that was fished for none the less.

I am alive.

How could she be so certain?

“My Lord.”

Lotor ran his hand down the length of his face. Pushed his thumb over the corner of his eyes and he slumped back into his chair.

“Acxa,” He said. “It appears that we are returning to the capitol,” Lotor said, his fingers tapped against the inside of his thigh. “However, before we go, I need to make sure some things are done first.”

“Of course,” Acxa said. “Whatever you need.”

“Call Commander Frey.”


	10. Mykonos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was Chapter 9, is now chapter 10 and vice versa. For some reason I forgot how to count last night and posted these out of order.   
> Anyway, we're all good now.  
> Right?  
> Right.

The hunk of salvaged armor wrapped snuggly around Pidge’s wrist. She was working with it’s internal wiring at the hotel room’s desk, her ankles crossed under her seat, eyes half-lidded. Hunk didn’t call this a weapon, but she called it a pet project. He sat on the floor, peering through the curtains at the building across the street.

If the three traders they had to check out was a game of rock-paper-scissors, they had guessed wrong on the first two accounts.

The first place was a small street shop selling pistols and weapons. Hunk managed to smooth talk him into letting them into the ‘good’ stuff. They were talked through several new model of rifles that were all varying forms of legal and Pidge had to be dissuaded by Hunk to keep her from buying a fancy self-defense taser. It was apparent though that this place wasn’t what they wanted though. They left with smiles.

The second trader was at a warehouse. They caught a worker on his break, smoking something that smelled terrible. The worker answered their questions with shrugs and took 679 gak to loosen his tongue. Once sufficiently oiled, flap it he did. Flapped it a lot about shitty hours and a worse boss. Pidge hoped he invested that money in something worth while.

Their third option was inside the house across the street. Pidge and Hunk bought out this hotel room to stake it out. Say what she would about Lotor but he had great taste. This place had no air conditioning, the carpet was a strange shade of green, it smelled kinda like alcohol, and Pidge wasn’t sure if she could wrestle the insects living under the bed to submission if a confrontation arose.

“Wait, wait,” Hunk said. “Someone’s walking in.”

“Who?” She asked, her tongue stuck out between her lips as she concentrated on her work.

“Some guy in a black suit,” Hunk said. “Suave. It’s a galra.”

She leaned back in her chair, it protested this by squeaking loudly. “Galra is good.”

She walked over to kneel beside him by the window. She watched as the Galra, wearing a fancy dress uniform was greeted at the entrance of the house by a servant. Based on his lapels, he was a commander. “Very interesting.”

“Can you get a dossier on him?” He asked.

“Yes, Hunk,” Pidge said. “I’ll just google 'galra commander’ and I’m sure we’ll get a full summary of his mother’s tea preferences.”

“Man, that’s some pretty scathing sarcasm, even for you,” Hunk said. “I was just asking.”

“Let’s go check it out,” she said, standing. From the desk she grabbed the other gauntlet. “I wanna test these bad boys out.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to try new tech in a fight?” Hunk asked. “Last time you did that you almost killed Lance, twice.”

“Listen, the secondary explosion was a surprise,” Pidge said. “But it was a grenade, it was supposed to blow-up, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Stop trying to kill my boyfriend,” Hunk said.

“C'mon,” she said.

Her new gauntlet was a black leather glove with hard metal ridges over her knuckles. Over the past few hours she had sown white conductivity strips into the glove that connected to a tiny battery pack on her wrist, adding onto her previous bracelet design. She had attached together the armor pieces she had bought and now she had taser fists. Honestly, it was so cool she wondered why she had never thought of it before.

There was something so nice about crossing the street to the house with Hunk. Instead of having to hurry and watch her own back, she had someone to do that for her. Not just that it was knowing that she wasn’t walking in alone, that no matter what happened she could count on her best friend. It was like a safety net, where before she had been walking the tight rope blind folded, now she walked with the security that someone would stop her before she broke all her bones in a tragic accident.

They jumped the garden wall. Well, Pidge jumped it and then directed Hunk as he scrambled over, dangled for several seconds, lost his grip, and crushed several bushes underneath him.

“I’ve seen you jump walls higher then that,” Pidge said. “In fact I’ve seen you be down right graceful, Hunk, so I don’t get it.”

“Listen,” Hunk said, standing and rubbing at his back. He brushed a few leaves out of his hair. “I can’t risk spraining my ankle and I don’t think these shoes give a lot of support.”

“I’ve always wished I understood how you logic this stuff out,” Pidge said, as she scanned for surveillance. She had incorporated the chip from the stolen personal device into her right wrist gauntlet so she could access her interface easily. “A few cameras, video only. We’ll just, loop the feed, there we go, laughably easy.”

She let Hunk take point through the garden. They reached the base of the house and Pidge pulled a heat signature. Only three people. One was the Galra, identifiable by his large shape. Assumably there was the servant and one other unidentified individual. Maybe this was the front for the company that Rogin had guessed about. Or the front man?

They entered through the kitchen door. It was dark, she could hear talking in the house, but couldn’t make out the exact words. Hunk took one side around the kitchen island and she walked around the other so they came to the door on opposite sides. A warm light emanated from the next room, she could hear the sounds of silverware on plates.

Hunk caught her eyes and he looked up, towards the second story. She nodded and watched him walk through the other kitchen door into the rest of the house. She pressed against the wall and listened to the conversation.

“This is delicious,” the Galra commander said, identifiable by his gruff voice. “I’m very impressed. Who catered this?”

“A store named Supreme Cut,” The Alien said. “They always do good food, it’s not ideal, I understand, but it’s what I could manage on such short notice.”

“No, I’m just glad to have anything fresh,” the commander said.

“You weren’t scheduled to make a visit for another phoeb.” The Alien said. “Why so early?”

“Prince Lotor has ordered us to increase security on the prison,” The commander said. “We need more supplies.”

“We can do that,” The alien said, humming to himself. “Anything else?”

“Food, water,” he said. “The team leader has a few ideas for a new ship drive core. I have a list of necessary materials and resources, none of it should be in short supply.”

Pidge smiled.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to look at Hunk and was very shocked to see that it was not Hunk standing behind her. It was the servant. She knelt behind Pidge and stared at her with wide eyes. Pidge stared at her in turn and the girl stared back.

Pidge stood and the girl stood too. Pidge activated her gauntlets, or tried too, nothing happened. She looked down at the device on her wrists, only for the girl to use that as a distraction to punch her in the nose. It broke and blood streamed from Pidge’s nostrils. It seeped through her fingers when Pidge’s hand instinctively covered her face.

The girl grabbed Pidge’s arm, twisted it tight behind her back and slammed her knees into the ground. The ricochet of pain that ran up her nervous system left her stunned for several moments, giving the girl time to strip Pidge of her gauntlet and gloves. She had stumbled out into the doorway and looked up to see that the Galra Commander had pulled his pistol on her. Pidge groaned.

“Have a seat, dear,” The Commander suggested, gesturing at one of the chairs.

The other occupant of the dinning room was a purple skinned alien with black spots around his eyes. Maybe part Galra. The servant girl released Pidge and she obediently walked over to the indicated chair to sat down.

She put her hand to her still hurting nose and felt where the cartilage was out of place. She had done this many times before but she still had to pump herself up for it. She popped her nose back in place, groaning as she did so. She kept her hand to her nose and tilted her head over the back of her chair.

“Who’s this?” The host asked.

“The Green Paladin of Voltron,” The Commander said.

“Not possible,” the host said. “She’s so small.”

“Prince Lotor called me and gave me specific instructions to capture you,” The commander said. “And you just walk in. I haven’t been very lucky these past few weeks, so it’s nice to see a change in pace. I’m Commander Fray, in charge of the prison you’re trying to break into.”

Pidge rolled her head forward to look at him.

“Pidge,” she growled through her teeth. “It’s a pleasure.”

Fray walked towards her. He was huge, tall and lanky with gray around the tufts of his ear, scars lined his face, cutting swaths in his fur. He reached down towards her face she flinched away but he grabbed her by the throat. His thumb ran along the line of her jaw and pressed his fingers to his chin to force her to look at him. “Humans are so soft and weak.”

He backhanded her and Pidge’s head whipped to the side. She tasted iron.

“Why are you interested in the prison?” Fray demanded.

“Getting a jump on the design plans of the Empire,” Pidge grunted. “I already know where the base is, I just had to figure you.”

“You think that’s a threat?” Fray asked. “You can’t get through the black hole’s disk. Prince Lotor severely underestimates the security and capability of my little paradise.”

“Prince Lotor,” Pidge said. “Is insulting me by leaving me in your fumbling hands.”

He slapped her for her trouble.

“Tell me,” he said. He wandered down the length of the table and picked up a fork from beside his plate. He used his napkin to wipe the food off the fork and then returned to her.“Where are the other Paladins and lions?”

“Don’t know.”

He jabbed the fork into her leg over her wound. Pidge gasped, and a weak whimper escaped her lips. Blood began to seep through her pant’s leg and brace, she could feel it against the skin of her thigh. It was like getting shot again, the pressure building with each second.

“Nice thing about prosthetics,” Fray said, tapping his knuckles against his leg so she could hear the metal echo. “Is you don’t have this problem.”

“Shit,” Pidge hissed.

“Who are you looking for.”

“Avin!” Pidge shouted out, a random name she once heard Slav sputter on. Another slave. A brilliant scientist. She couldn’t formulate the details. “I’m looking for Avin, the weapons designer!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fray said.

He pushed more weight onto the fork, poking the prongs through the fabric. Pidge wreathed, trying to jerk her leg away but he pushed his knee into hers and pinned it against the arm rest. He smiled, staring down at her with half-lidded eyes, grinning. She screamed, the sound ripping through her throat and turning her hoarse. She screamed for Hunk as tears sprung into her eyes and her fingers twisted into each other behind her back

Fray was suddenly pulled away from her, the fork clattering to the floor. Hunk had picked Fray up and slammed him into the ground. He kicked over the table and the scrambled away, shouting something. Hunk watched him run and then turned a heavy gaze onto the servant girl who shrunk into the corner.

He turned on Pidge, and walked around her to unbind her hands. She collapsed over her knees, grasping at the wound, digging her fingers into the area around it to block out the pain. Her chapped lips burned as she pushed on the arm rests to force herself to stand. Hunk grasped her under her arm and pulled her to her feet.

“Find anything?” She asked, voice hoarse.

“No,” Hunk said. “I kinda got interrupted when I was trying to hack the computer.”

“That’s okay,” Pidge said, leaning into his shoulder. “I got what we need, we can get out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In The Boxer, it is canon that when that kid called Pidge a 'nerd', she jumped the table and threw hands.


	11. I Am All That I Need/ Arroyo Secco/ Thumprint Scar

Lotor checked the collar of his armor. He was stalling.

He pressed the door button and the door pushed open. He waited until the mechanism locked in place before stepping into the throne room. His foot steps echoed over the metal platform. Visible through the tall windows, a frigate drifted by on patrol, flanked by a small flock of fighters. The room was dark, and his eyes strained to make out the dark figure in the back. He stopped twenty feet away.

“Haggar,” Lotor said.

“Prince Lotor,” Haggar said, her voice a thin growl and croak. It grated on his ears. Truly, when Galra hid the jungles as scared prey, it was the voice of Haggar that haunted them.

In those moments, his body was the only thing stable. He wanted there to be a storm behind his mask placidness but he knew she was right. There was nothing. A dull void that he needed to have filled but didn’t know with what he could fill it with. The cruelty of the monster before him?

“You are relieved of your duties to the Empire,” Haggar said with no preamble. “You will be transferred to a more suitable position for your experience. It has been aggreed upon by the war council.”

“And what position will that be?” Lotor asked, standing. Outraged, angry, but that was such a distant emotion. Zarkon had died years ago, slipped away into illness, or so he was told, and all he could feel was this treachery. This drawing back on his line by the old handler.

“Away from the war,” Haggar said. “You disobeyed my advisement and acted against the interest of the Empire. Your disloyalty is proof that you did not deserve to be called out of exile. This is a generous gift.”

“What will you do with the planet’s I captured?” Lotor asked.

“The true strength of the Galra will be imposed on them,” Haggar said. “Your concessions only proved that your watered down blood only weakens you. You are not ready for full commands, much less the whole empire.”

Lotor did not move, not a muscle twitched voluntarily. He heard what was being said to him. He knew what he wanted to say. He was still the child that had been thrown away like a broken toy all those years ago. Like any child he longed for the affection of some inexplicable and foreign entity that was superimposed upon him by the psyche, but never once had he tasted or seen it. Some people spoke of this love, a unique love, but he had no proof of it’s reality. It was mere conjecture. A theory that he had long ago disposed of.

“There is one more thing,” Haggar said.

Lotor narrowed his eyes. “Yes?”

“You were not told this because you did not deserve the information,” Haggar said. “But now, it may be the only way for you to realize what your true destiny is. To realize what you really are. I am your mother, the one who created you.”

When Lotor was a child, a sympathetic attendant had taken him to a play. It was a strange debacle. The actors wore pretty masks made out of carefully sculpted painted glass and danced about intricately waving colorful ribbons. Near the end, at the climax after the heroine had confessed her love to the hero, the mask fell off the actress’s face and it shattered. The actors reacted with shock but kept going with the lines but to Lotor the play was over. The magic had been broken.

Lotor felt like that mask. Laying in pieces on the floor, irreparable. He stumbled a step towards her, the floor tilted, and he collapsed.

______

She sat in the nook of a tree, an arm draped over her knee, her hair grown so long it cascaded down her shoulders in chestnut curls that glinted in the sunlight that escaped through the dense foliage above. She wore a checkered green and black shirt and loose blue plants, and he had never seen a being so beautiful. She belonged in this place, he was in her adobe, standing on the hallowed ground of a Goddess. She had no obligation to acknowledge his existence here, but still, she turned to him and blessed him.

“Where are we?” He asked.

She threw her leg over the branch so she could turn to face him. “I dunno, you made this shit up.”

“How is that possible?” He asked. “You left on Lina.”

“I’m not Pidge, if that’s what you’re asking?” She said. She swirled her hand around her head. “You’re in some deep psychosis right now, I just stumbled in.”

“Why did you leave on Lina?” He asked, his voice a whisper. He couldn’t move, didn’t dare tread down the grass. All this was so delicate and he would take just having her here, even in just his vicinity. “I asked you to stay.”

She laughed, a characteristic cackle. “You manipulated her and told her you killed her father, which you couldn’t do, because you knew that would make her hate you. She walked away because you’re an awkward nerd who doesn’t know how to play nice. She took her ball and went home!”  
“Then how are you here?” He asked.

“Magic,” she said.

To the corner of his eye, he witnessed something. Himself as a child, his hair shorter, his features softer. An attendant grasped his arm, his sleeve pulled up to his elbow. He squirmed, “I don’t want to take my medicine! It hurts!”

The attendant gripped him tighter. “It’ll make you stronger.”

“How rude,” she said, her pretty face screwing up into a mocking sneer at the dirrection of the memory. “Trying to break in on a private conversation. I got here first bitch, these are my woods.”

She waved her hand and the vision vanished in a cloud of smoke. Something in the air cleared, but Lotor could still sense it, hovering. Waiting.

“Part of you always knew,” she said. “That she was your mother, or that she created you thirty-six years ago, whatever verb/noun combination you prefer. Ashita, that creature doesn’t deserve to be called a mother.”

Screams echoed through the woods and the shadows closed in on them just a bit more. They danced over her face, catching her eyes. They were his screams, ragged, desperate.

“How long can you go without food or water?” She asked. “How long till you give? You never showed that magic prowess she wanted. Alfor had a baby girl and she was purr-fect, and she can do sparkly light shows, and shape shift, and you’re just a, smooth faced baby who’s too skinny to be Galra and too ugly to be Altean. Look at those scars you hide.”

He looked down at his hands. He ran his thumbs along the tiny, white scars that lined his arms, dozens of them, maybe hundreds. Burns, cuts, needle pricks. They leaked blood and pus, red infected, he groaned, old pains being dragged out from below the surface.

“Is this a dream?”

“A useful tool for the writer to peak into your inner subconscious so your next actions don’t looks so nuts,” she said. “Or a hallucinatory revelation. Flash-back. Fever dream. A chance for you to step back and review your options. You won’t remember most of this.”

She laughed.

“Insert Earth reference you don’t get!” She said. “Oh, uh, how about Deadpool?”

“Why you?” He asked.

She pushed off the tree and walked, no floated, over to him. She was so small, yet her shoulders rippled with muscle, so much strength in such a little form. She placed her hand on his shoulder and moved ever closer, until her body pressed against his. His hands couldn’t unpin themselves from his sides.

“Because she was funny,” she said. “Because she’s cute. Because she was the first person in your life who looked at you and asked you to step the fuck-up.”

She stood on her tip toes, and her lips lips hovered just a bit from his, her breath on his skin, the current of electricity from them, tantalizing. He wanted to grab her by the waist, hold her to him and taste her. To find the corners of her body, the nooks, the hidden places, to see her unwind, gasp, moan, his name like a prayer.

“Careful, lover boy,” she smirked. “Or you’ll wake-up with a boner. I won’t kiss you, I can’t, because you can’t imagine her kissing you, or loving you. Look out there.”

He turned over his shoulder, the forest ended and opened to dead desert, the ground cracked and dried, ran for miles to the horizon.

She leaned over his shoulder, and said, “now that’s an analogy for some deep shit right there.”

“Here’s the down low,” she continued. “Venture into the woods and face the grand unknown, the trees are tallest in the deepest parts. At night, the darkness will eat you alive if you let it. Or, you can walk that desert, walk that desert for miles and dig for wells that will never turn water.

“You see,” she said. “I’m not Pidge talking to you, I’m just a friendly individual who likes to dispense good advice. You are not empty, she was wrong about that, you can feel it in your chest right now. A seething rage, good! You are burning and you are alive, you don’t understand it, but you love her. You’ll need that love. If you want to overcome Haggar you can’t do it by playing her games, she breaks the rules. You have to walk away. Start again. Regrow. Do not seek revenge or satisfaction, it doesn’t exist. The only thing that can ever sate your desire is a blind, complete acceptance of your past. You cannot change it but only build from it.”

She breathed in through her nose and wandered away from him, into the forest. She stopped, brushing her toes over the top of her other foot. Veins ran bulged between the bones, visible through the skin, she was so alive and real, and yet not. He wanted the real thing. The real Katie Holt, the insane girl who made bombs and yelled at him, and was so candid, and so aggravating, and who he had known only for a week but had been such a revelation in his life, that he could not imagine it without her.

“You’re torn,” she repeated. “You want to destroy her because you fear her, and yet love her because you need her. You can puzzle out your reasonings and logics on your own but I have a piece of advice.”

“And what’s that?” He asked.

“Love yourself,” she said. “The choice to live is not a resolution that you just pick-up. It is not earned, it is given. She was given that choice and now she gives it to you. Love yourself, forgive yourself, before you love and forgive anyone else.”

She raised her nose in the air, looking at him through her eyelashes.

“Burn down a forest and it grows back,” she said. “Heh, you’ll do fine.”

____

 

His eyes popped open.

He laid on a cot in a barren quarter. He had been stripped of his armor and wore only his under suit. He rubbed at his eyes as strange visions, memories, and dreams, popped into his head at random. There was something he should remember, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. They were fleeting and momentary. Unimportant at the moment.

He swung his legs off the cot.

“How embarrassing,” he muttered, as he remembered the scene.

He knew where he was. It was an old cell they kept him when he was young. For hours, if he misbehaved, Haggar would put him here and let him out when she decided that he had been punished enough. What behaviors even merited this? Back talk, any kind of talk, outbursts, laughing. If he wasn’t training he was in this room. Maybe this was just his room. He couldn’t remember.

He threaded his fingers through his hair, catching knots. It was like a flag, a banner he wore to spite any who saw him. He was Altean. Deal with it. Haggar was Altean. The points of logic never connected and he never wanted them to. She was an emotionless monster. Mothers wers supposed to be warm and good, strong and guarding.

Lotor sat in that cell and wept. He was disquiet. Waves of emotions crested over him and crashed, pinning him to the rocks. If he not felt anything for twenty years, then this was the moment it all caught-up. There were so many things he felt, so many things that passed his grip that he couldn’t name even one of them. He just sat there on the edge of the bed and cried. Not for any reason, but that he could.

He mourned his mother and he mourned for Honerva, the dead woman that was left as a corpse ten millennia ago. Maybe, the string of logic that kept him sane went like this. Haggar was once Honerva. Haggar created Lotor. Therefore Honerva is Lotor’s mother. Perhaps he believed, with the right combination of action and word, the correct spell. He could find that woman, the beautiful and intelligent Altean scientist with golden eyes. She would be his mother. Now, the illusion was broken, Honerva was as dead as her husband and they had both died ten thousand years ago. If two death things could create something alive, he couldn’t know.

Then he sat there and he just felt bad. He had cried himself out. Anger. Sorrow. A conglomerated mixture, a poison. No wonder Zarkon said that emotions were a weakness, these sucked.

A small knocked sounded on his door. He looked up.

The door opened and Acxa stood on the other side, in full armor. Her hair was down, a frizzy mass on her shoulders, and purple blood splattered across the chest plate of her armor. He had never seen her look so determined.

“Haggar’s going to have you killed,” Acxa said. “We need to go.”

Lotor stared at the now empty door. The reversal of ‘order giving’ was a shock in of itself so it took him a moment to process what she said before he picked himself up and followed her. Outside of the room she gave him his armor, sword, and a rifle. It was the best thing he could’ve done to collect himself and order his thoughts.

“I told her,” Acxa said. “About Pidge and what happened, she asked, I was afraid, and I’m sorry, my Lord. He said that your failings are no longer worth your lack of magical ability. I didn’t understand but–”

He hooked his finger under her chin and tilted it up so she looked at him. “Go find the other generals and go somewhere Haggar won’t find you. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can.”

“What are you going to do?” Acxa asked as his hand retracted. She drew one of her pistols, she had gotten a new one.

“I have to take care of some business,” Lotor said, he started down the hallway. He paused, “And thank you Acxa.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“Just Lotor from now on.”

Lotor left the Acxa in the hallway, trusting that she would do what must be done. Lotor knew the way to the throne room and he followed the familiar route with a swift stride. No one ran out to stop him. Soldiers he passed saluted and he gave them half nods. He gave no warning before he opened the throne room door and walked in.

A commander spoke to Haggar, she did not sit in the throne, a concession of her lack of power but still she stood on the dais. No one could consider it anything less then hers. As Lotor walked in, the commander began to draw his sword and but Lotor parried his blade, then thrusted it through his belly. As the commander’s body slid off the blade, leaving a trail of purple blood on the silver sword, Lotor fixed a glare on Haggar.

“Consider this,” he said, “My resignation.”

Haggar did not speak, did not move. Lotor feet were planted and he stood firm before the emotionless gaze. It was a barrage, a million words said with none. Lotor’s heart pounded against his chest and he grinned when he realized it was fear. Exhilarating, absolute terror, and he was feeling it, and it was terrible, but it was his.

“You’re sick,” Lotor said. “I can tell that the quintessence isn’t having it’s usual effect, isn’t it? If I wanted to, I could kill you now, but I don’t want to, not yet.”

“You’re not willing to do what must be done to achieve power,” Haggar said. “Your weakness will be your own demise.”

“That’s alright,” Lotor said. “Because someone I know has helped me realize something important. The Galra Empire is as hollow as you, there is nothing behind this war machine you’ve created. No culture. No hope. It’s all about power and ambition. the next horizon of selfish greed. What I’ve lived, what you’ve done to me, is nothing compared to what you’ve done to what was a great nation and I refuse to be the heir of something that’s rotten through.”

“We created you to be strong.”

“You created me as a tool!” Lotor growled. “I am but a tool that never functioned properly and you kept me because I refused to die. Your cruelty doesn’t come from anger or hurt, it’s from your own dead heart.”

“It’s because of her,” Haggar said, “the girl named Katie Holt.”

Hearing him say her name was almost enough for Lotor to run her through. His feet didn’t move.

“You think that a girl, of a primitive, weak species,” Haggar said. “Is wiser then someone who has lived 10,000 years? The scope of her vision is as narrow as the small world she came from. I will ignore these transgressions Lotor, if you kill her. If you destroy her and release yourself from this foolish attachment, then I will restore your place, your inheritance, and what you seek so desperately.”

Lotor gritted his teeth, a conflict formed in his hands and his heart. Like a schism. Haggar had found where he was the weakest and struck there. There were a lot of emotions and Lotor was an inept at all of them. He didn’t know what to think, what to say. Whatever convictions he had vanished under the sheer force of being shredded apart.

“Go, boy,” Haggar chuckled. “Just remember, you will never be more then what you were made to be.”

“And what was I made to be?” Lotor demanded,

“We shall find out.”

Her laughter chased him out.


	12. Third of May/ Ōdaigahara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have one more chapter in Act 2, before we're all caught up with the tumblr fic.   
> There will be a short hiatus to Monday, October 19 and then we'll pick right up for Act 3.

Pidge sat in the bay of Green, perched on a box of supplies, her flight suit leg pulled to her upper-thigh as she threaded the blue thread through her skin with the thin hook needle. The area had been administered anesthetics and cleaned. Now the only thing Pidge had to not do was puke. Her fingers were shaking by the time she tied the last knot, knowing that the job wasn’t as clean as it could be but that it would at least function for now. She rolled down the suit’s leg, checked the seal at each interval before pulling her pants and boots on over top. She rolled the jacket on over her shoulders and caught her breath.

Pidge walked into the cock pit where Hunk had taken his position in her chair, looking like he did not belong at all. He got up eagerly and let her take her proper seat. They looked out onto the vast expanse of space, centered in it all was the black hole. It was massive, a cloud of red, yellow, and orange dust, floating amongst debris, and elemental gases. Anything and all that it had encountered in it’s extant life span. The sight itself was a reward for coming out here. Somewhere in there was a black hole, the most powerful force in the universe, tamed by some scientists.

“That star over there,” Hunk said, pointing to what was from Pidge’s perspective, a thumb sized star to their right. “That’s Zeta Sagittarius. We’re only a light year from it and it’s 88 light years from home, straight. This is the closest we’ve ever been.”

The galaxy was a spiral, with arms like an octopus. The most effective way to transverse it were pre-selected flight lanes which had been confirmed to be free of debris, planets, stars, and whatever else a ship computer could accidentally ram a ship into. Because once full FTL was hit, around 4,000 times the speed of light, the slightest aberration in flight could lead to body parts in different systems. Most ships were stuck around ten light years a day, the lions could manage twenty, and the castle ship about thirty. 

That meant when most said ‘eight FTL hours’ they were saying about three to four light years of distance. When Pidge said it would take them 105.6 hours to reach home, she meant four-and-a-half days. More like five to six if they took the FTL lanes. Compared to the usual number of being three to four weeks or even up to a few months, that wasn’t just close, that was next door.

“He’s in there,” Pidge said. “I can feel it.”

“There’s nothing on the radar,” Hunk said. “The background radiation is too strong. I’m not sure how we’re going to make it in there. I have no idea if the lions are shielded against that kind of radiation, flying through it would be hell itself.”

“I imagine,” Pidge said. “That they have a route through the accretion disk to the stable line of orbit. This is insane, to put a station out here? I mean, the orbit between IBCO and ISCO is stable. It’s a non-spinning object, so they could either have a perfect circle or a rosetta orbit. It’s just-- It's still crazy.”

“They really didn’t want anyone to find this place,” Hunk said.

“I say we wait a few more hours,” Pidge said. “Let some more data come back from the scans, ponder it.”  
“Are you being reasonable?” Hunk gasped mockingly, looking down at her. He frowned, “Pidge, you look terrified.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to mess this up,” she laughed, pushing her hair back. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to get in there and find him. I’m afraid he’ll be dead. I’m afraid, Hunk, I’m afraid he won’t accept me or he’ll be so, changed, or I’ve changed. That I’ve changed so much, that he doesn’t recognize me. That’s what I’m afraid of. If I mess this up–”

He put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her mid-sentence. Hunk said simply, “We’ll handle it.”

She covered his hand with hers, “Of course.”

“Let’s grab some rations,” Hunk said. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving!” She laughed.

“No way,” he said. “Sometimes I’m just hungry!”

They played games of go fish and black jack on their personal devices over food goo while waiting for the data to collate. No matter how many jokes they picked and laughed at, or how many times Hunk proved to be a terrible liar, Pidge could not overcome the shake in her body. It was the back of her mind at all times, she could not turn from it, could not forget it. He was right there.

She wanted to see her father. She wanted to see him more then anything in the world. She wanted to work on the cars together. She wanted him to hug and kiss her. She wanted those late nights when neither of them could sleep because of restless minds where they sat on the couch, reading. She wanted to come running downstairs, shouting about a successful code. She wanted to see his tired days. She wanted him to see all that she had done, all that had been done to her, and to accept her, because if he could accept her, she could accept herself.

She wanted.

It was just that. A cavernous sense of yearning that could be filled by nothing less then the physical presence of her father. Farther then need, she could live without him. It was the essence of love itself, the selfish and selfless. To give as much to take.

Want.

Ani ohev et otha.

The pinging sound echoed through the cabin. They looked at the windshield and bursted out laughing.

“It’s the supply ship!” Pidge laughed, standing and walking over to sit in her chair. “Well, that simplifies things, we can just steal it’s flight navs and go!”

“Wait, Pidge,” Hunk said. “We know for certain that thing will be able to weather the storm. We don’t know if Green can and yeah, probably, but I personally don’t want to come out of that looking like The Thing.”

“Does that make me Sue Storm?”

“Yeah, that’s probably about right,” Hunk said. “Instead of following it, I think we should hitch a ride.”

“That could make escape a little hard,” she said.

“Yeah, but I like better safe then rock faced for the rest of my existence.”

“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s go.”

Just as she was about to hit the boosters, a communication signal hit them. The alert spread over the windshield, blaring and loud, a high priority message from the castle ship. Pidge checked the channel and then winced. “I think it’s Keith.”

“Well, answer it,” Hunk said leaning over the back of the chair. “Heh, he’s going to kill us.”

She opened the call and Keith’s face filled the front screen. He was on the bridge, Allura, Lance, and Coran in the background. She grinned to see her friends, safe and sound after such a long absence. 

“Hey, guys!” Pidge said cheerfully.

“Hunk!” Lance shouted, shoving his face into frame. “Are you okay, babe? Unhurt?! Alive?!”

“I’m fine sweetheart,” Hunk said. “Just running errands with Pidge.”

“Oh, really?” Keith asked, crossing his arms. “And where are you?”

“Sagittarius arm,” Pidge said. “Black hole, take a left at Zeta and you can’t miss it.”

“You’re on the other side of the galaxy?!” Allura asked. “What could possibly be reason enough for that? We’re still trying to liberate Contraxia! Pidge, are you hurt?!”

“I’ve had a rough week,” she smirked.

“What are you doing out there?” Keith demanded. “You can’t just go MIA like that Pidge, not when we need you and Hunk. Is this about your family? You agreed you would set that aside for the team.”

“Keith,” Pidge said. “I’m not chasing leads anymore, I’m staring at the physical location of my father. I told you that when the time came, all bets would be off, and I would do what I need to do. Well, now is that time.”

“If you’re injured,” Keith said. “An operation like that is not just risky, it’s foolish.”

“I learned it from you!” She snapped. “I don’t have time to turn back right now. They could move him at any point. Lotor now has a personal problem with me and I am begging you Keith to understand what I’m doing, because I am doing it. Non-negotiable.”

“You’re going be in so much trouble when you get back,” Keith said.

“I’ll clean sleep pods for the rest of my life,” she said. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Keith sighed, his finger tapped against his armor and he looked back at the screen, attempting to catch her eyes despite millions of kilometers of distance. “Just be careful. I can’t lose both of you. Pidge, I’ve never had a family until I had you guys. I understand why you’re fighting so hard, don’t think I don’t.”

“That’s right!” Lance said. “You go show those guys who’s boss!”

“We can’t disengage from Contraxia,” Allura said. “However, while you’re there, you might as well do it. We’re going to need you to return to the front as soon as you have Pidge’s father, no ifs-or-buts.”

“We’ll do our best,” Pidge said.

“Pidge–”

She cut the feed. In the silence of the cabin she said, “We’re hitting Earth right?”

“Obviously,” Hunk said.

“Then let’s do this,” she said. Pidge thrusted the Green Lion forward towards the transport ship. It appeared on the windshield after only ten minutes of flight. It was a cruiser class ship, relatively large, “Do you think it’s manned?”

“Nah,” he said. “That’s a computerized transport ship. Slow, but the company sends them out on a lane and they just get there on their own. Less cost I guess.”

“Good, then this’ll be easy.” She said, and activated the rebreather around her neck. The material slid into place around her head, an archaic chunk of metal. The entire thing was a dark black steel and it only had a thin tinted strip for the eyes, severely limiting her line of sight but it was a layer between her and a bullet. She’d take it.

She landed on the aft of the ship and they jumped out of the lion, landing on the outside. Pidge took a minute to appreciate the full view of the black hole from an unrestricted viewpoint while Hunk cut open a hole in the ship’s exterior. From the lion, klicks away, it appeared feasible, but here with the massive cloud looming over her. The mountain became insurmountable.

Hunk kicked in the new hole and they dropped into the ship. With no crew the ship didn’t need to run life support, lights, or artificial gravity. They floated down a completely dark hallway, Hunk lighting the way with his armor’s flashlight. Pidge felt Green take off from the ship side and retreat to a safe distance.

They passed a huge cargo hold, visible through dusty windows showing huge stacks of weaponry, food supplies, and resources. They broke into the cargo hold. Since the incident with Alfor’s ghost, Pidge and Hunk had invested in learning how to maneuver in zero G. It all came in the core muscles and Pidge had invested in adding tiny little thrusters to her already tricked out gauntlets, this let her jump wall-to-wall to push herself along, Tony Stark style. Hunk used his jet pack.

“So,” She said. Settling in-between a stack of boxes, gripping the edge lightly to steady herself. “We have about ten hours before this thing arrives. I’m already downloading the path it’s taking.”

“So what’s the trick?”

“Most of this stuff is actually reactive,” PIdge said. “So there’s serious shielding on this ship, and you were right, the Green Lion isn’t protected against Gamma rays. We should be safe here.”

“Thank you, Hunk,” Hunk said, shaking his own hand. “You’re so awesome.”

“So what do you want to do for ten hours?”

“Blackjack?”

They did indeed play many, many, many rounds of Blackjack but Pidge ended up sleeping for almost five hours by tying her jacket sleeves to a railing and sleeping mummy style. She woke up to Hunk tapping her shoulder. She had to slide out of jacket and untie it to free herself but the nap was well-appreciated. Five minutes later they heard the engine shut-off and then the latches adhering to the sides of the ship. Pidge angled herself upright and landed on her feet when the gravity returned. Hunk wasn’t so lucky, he hit the ground with a loud, 'oof’.

“C'mon, Hunk!” Pidge hissed as she dove for cover just as the side door slid open. Hunk joined her a second later, and light exploded into the hold. A small platoon of drones, lead by Commander Fray, walked in. “They knew we were coming.”

“I mean, this is probably the most obvious way to get in,” Hunk whispered. “You wanna lock him in here?”

“Boy, do I!”

They circled around the column of supplies to another side door. Pidge and Hunk exited through that door then hacked the ship’s AI to think it was still in deep space. The high protocol lock would take at least thirty minutes, if not longer to undue.

They stood in a ship bay, with few shuttles and two frigates. Pidge hissed through her teeth when she recognized the blue frigate, “That would be Lotor’s.”

“No way,” Hunk said. “Is he here? Oh, crap, we’re dead.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “We might not even see him. This is a pretty big base. According to the schematics I got, the prisoners are held on the opposite end. Let’s go!”

They moved through the facility. It was built like a plus mark with a long, thin tubular hallway stretching around the ends. A huge shield generator was placed on the top and the main holding area was in the center of the facility. The security was light, they did not encounter any sentries on the way to the holding center and Pidge set a fast pace as they cleared each room and hallway. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breath.

They walked out into a large empty room in the main holding area. An elevator waited on the far side, leading towards the other levels where the prisoners were. Standing in the dead center of the room, between them and their destination was none other then Lotor, waiting for her to arrive. Pidge and Hunk slid to a halt thirty feet out from him. Hunk activated his bayard but Pidge held tight.   
Lotor had his sword drawn and it dangled by his side. He wore his helmet, his face hidden behind the dark visor. The handful of seconds after they came in dragged on and Pidge observed him closely. She could sense, rolling off him, a certain personal rage and determination, it was in how his shoulders pulled back, the tight grip on his sword. There was no one else in the room but him and her. Now she had his undivided attention.

“I stand corrected,” she said.

“Pidge,” Hunk whispered. “What do we do?”

“You go on,” she said, not taking her eyes off Lotor. “I’ll take care of him.”

“No way,” he said. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

“Something’s wrong,” Pidge said. “I can’t explain it but I think there’s more going on here.”

She looked up at Hunk as she deactivated her rebreather and let it slide down into the tiny compartment around her throat. She looked up at Hunk and found his eyes behind his vsior, “Go find my Dad. Please, Hunk, I’m counting on you.”

He shifted uncomfortably and said, “Not the puppy eyes.”

“I’ll cover you,” she said.   
“Argh, Pidge,” Hunk said, he shifted foot-to-foot then deactivated his bayard. “If you get killed, I’m going to kill you!”

They moved together, charging Lotor. Lotor swung down on Hunk but he blocked it off his gauntlets and Pidge jumped over Hunk’s back to smash her fist against the side of his helmet. Lotor stumbled and Hunk darted to the side. He was in the elevator before Pidge and Lotor regained their balance. The last she saw of him was the reassuring nod he gave her before the doors closed.  
“I’m flattered," Pidge said as she straightened. "Did you come all the way out here for me?”

Lotor pulled off his dented helmet, yanking strand of hair along with it before fixing her with a sharp glare. “Yes.”

“Fray and I are already acquainted,” Pidge said. “He’s locked in the cargo ship’s hold.”

“I told him not to underestimate you,” Lotor growled, he circled her, eyes fixated on her, unwavering. He twirled his sword in his grip, finding momentum and looking for his opening. “No one ever listens when I say that.”

“To their defense,” Pidge said. “I’m tiny and it’s easy. So why are we fighting?”

“I have to kill you,” he said, like he was convincing himself of it too.

“Have to?” She asked before Lotor swung on her. Pidge backed to slip the sword swing. She stayed on the outside of his arm and ducked his next swing. She stepped in on him and caught his wrist, she held his arm up and above their heads before her hand found his other wrist. Pidge lowered her stance and they were caught in place for just a second. “Where are the generals?”

“You talk about freedom and peace,” Lotor snarled at her, his hair fell about his face, and a silver strand ghosted before her eyes. “But only because you’ve known it, you’re not trapped, like I am.”

“What?”

He jerked his arm and she was flipped over her axis to be slammed against the floor. Lotor stabbed the sword downwards, towards her gut but she rolled over in time. Pidge scrambled to her feet and this time deflected the blade with her gauntlet before striking him in the gut. She activated the taser but the electricity only fizzled against his armor, he had reinforced it. 

She disengaged from him, stumbling away with her hands low. “All I want is my father. It’s all I came for and it’s all I’ll leave with!”

Lotor’s only response was to drop to one knee and strike at her legs. She pushed her right leg back and parried off. Lotor swung low as as he stood and the blade caught her jacket, running a gash in it. There was nothing in the room to give her the advantage and he had a longer range weapon. All she could do was keep her hands in front of her most vulnerable bits and hope her conglomeration of injuries didn’t catch-up too quick.

She didn’t have his time. She didn’t have his strength or his endurance. Yet, there was something they did share, something she could feel even as he reset his stance. The difference in how he was fighting, the telegraphed swings and the broad stances. The way he moved around her like a predator eyeing his next morsel of food. His words from their dinner came back to her but the certainty he had back then was now gone. It was like there were two lines, each pulling him in a direction, ripping him in half.

Pidge used both of her wrists to catch his next blow, feeling how the strike rung through her entire body. She slid the sword down, caught between her arms, and let it go low. Lotor punched her across the jaw and jabbed at her stomach. He caught her side and Pidge cried out as she hit the ground, her hand instinctively coming to cover the new wound. She kicked out, caught his knee and gave herself the time to stand.

The sword had grazed off a rib, and the wound wasn’t deep but blood began to stain her flight suit. From her pocket she pulled out a graft to seal over the wound and the suit. It still hurt, but at least she wouldn’t bleed out. Pidge spat, tasting iron.

“Before you wouldn’t shoot me,” Pidge said. “Even when I turned my back on you. Now killing me is all you want and you're still holding back."

Lotor stepped toward her. He swung, she dodged. If she kept backing, he’d catch her, so she stepped in on his next strike and this time didn’t count on strength. Pidge struck Lotor’s hand over his knuckles and his grip released, the sword clattered to the ground. She dropped low, hooked under his knees and dropped him to the ground. She mounted him, grabbed the arm that came up to defend himself, and punched him across the jaw.

Lotor shouted and he bucked her off his hips but she kept her legs wrapped tight around his waist. He braced one knee up and hooked under her leg. Pidge was thrown onto her stomach and her arm pinned behind her back before she could wiggle out of it. Her cheek pressed to the cold floor as she felt Lotor shift. “If I kill you, I will be restored to my position as prince. I will not lose everything, everything I’ve fought for. My entire life’s worth.”

“Is that want you want?!” She demanded. “Just more power?!”

“I was an idiot,” He said. “To make you anything more then what you were, to even consider giving up all that I had just for you! You’re too wild to be tamed or controlled. Yet, for some reason I didn’t kill Samuel Holt that day and I still don’t know why but today I'll right my mistake. I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill him.”

If she was calm before, that vanished with the next heartbeat to be replaced by a familiar, driving rage. She jerked her arm out of his grip and rolled over underneath his hips. Her left hand reached out and grabbed the sword’s edge, it did not cut the heavy material of her gloves but she felt the sharpness under her fingers. Pidge pulled back the fingers of her right hand and struck into the very center of the blade at the weakest point as she screamed. It shattered. The pieces fells to the floor and she could feel how he recoiled from her, frightened of her power.

She grabbed Lotor by the throat and threw him into the ground. She struck him, once, twice, and then three more times, her hips straddling his chest. Pidge’s hand still curled around his throat, her fingers digging into the skin at the line of his under suit.

“What do you want?!” She demanded. “From me?!”

He struck her elbow, collapsing it and rolled them over again. His arms braced around her head, his body pressed into hers to keep her pinned. He stared down at her, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her with such a deep and yearning desire that it made her heart ache, “I want you.”

“You can’t have me!” She rocked forward and he pushed her back down but she wedged her leg between them. She kicked into his chest, shoving him off. She rose to her feet just as she got the message from Hunk:

 

Got him.

 

She closed her eyes, breathed deep and straightened. “I know you won’t kill me.”

“I don’t know what to do,” He said, standing. If there was something she had missed before, she saw it now, it was so small and ragged, tired and weak, beaten down, but there, thriving and alive. Sparked in dead coals of his heart. “I don’t understand you.”

“I asked you,” Pidge said. “If we could be friends, after the war.”

He looked at her, his face was a mess. She couldn’t’ve imagined him this unwound when they first met. There was so much running beneath him. She could see the anger, the sorrow, and the fear. He was afraid. She pulled off her gauntlets and let them fall to the floor. Pidge raised her hands even with her eyes, and began to slowly walk to him.

“Well, I say,” she said, looking up at him and catching his eyes. He stood affronted from her, shoulders still pulled back but eyes wide. “No war between friends.”

There was, ever so slightly, a collapse. What had been antagonism, whatever had been separating them and causing his internal rage towards her, gave way. The skin between his eyebrows softened and he closed his eyes, and breathed in. He did not move besides this but when he opened his eyes, she had never seen someone look at her with such adoration.

She reached out, hesitated, and then put her hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need the power that they’re offering you. You’re stronger then that.”

“I don’t know where I could go,” he said, closing his eyes. He didn’t move, as if he was afraid of touching her but he didn’t reject her contact.

“Well,” she said with crooked grin. “Right now you can come with me to get my dad.”

“You would trust me with that?” Lotor asked, the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth showing his old confidence. He chuckled, “What even are we?”

“Don’t know,” She said. “But if you’re willing to help me figure it out, we can try.”

She removed her hand from his shoulder and headed toward the elevator.

“Katie,” he said.

She stopped.

“The empire is all I’ve known,” he said. “All I’ve ever been. I follow my father because I’ve known no other path.”

“And the Empire destroyed my life,” she said, turning to face him. “Destroyed my family.”

“Aren’t I just as responsible then?” Lotor asked. “Through my complacency?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But if you really, really, want to start again, you have to start here.”

“Katie,” he said. “I can’t promise you that what you want is simple, the Empire is entrenched. The Galra is a numerous species. Perhaps I just don’t believe it can be done. Now that I’m standing here, even considering turning my back, I find that I don’t know who I am, or what I could do. I’ve hurt you and you’re willing to forgive me?”

“I blew up your friend,” Pidge said. “And punched the crap out of you. I’ve killed hundreds of soldiers. Yet, everytime I think about this war, I wonder how could thousands of years of pain and misery just end? How can the scars that this war have struck on the galaxy be healed? Is there even a middle ground, I suppose--well. If, we can’t get along and forgive each, then how can there be peace at all?”

“I promise you it won’t be easy,” he said.

“Never said it would be.”

“Your friends won’t like me.”

“They’ll survive it.”

“Why are you accepting me?” He asked.

“Because I’m curious,” she said. “To see what happens. To see if we can do this. I-I need to know if it’s possible, for both of us to be so wrong that when we meet in the middle it’s right. I need to know if I can forgive you, so, I can forgive myself. Of course, wounds don’t heal, they scar, but I can’t spend the rest of my life picking at scabs.”

She tapped her fingers against her thigh.

“I need to try,” she said. 

He seemed to accept that, and they stepped into the elevator together.

When the doors closed they glanced at each other, noted the bruises lining each of their cheeks, and said nothing about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who has given kudos or commented. Those seem like small things but feedback is always welcomed because otherwise it feels like screaming into the void. Artists are insecure folk, we need the void to tell us we're doing a good job.   
> This isn't just about me, if you like a something, let it's creator know.  
> They appreciate it.


	13. He Doesn't Know Why

(When Pidge was a little girl she once woke-up late one night. Several hours past her bed time past her bed she slid out of bed. She put on pink princess flip-flops and flip-flopped her way downstairs, into the garage of their small house. It was a warm summer night, and she stood in the doorway to the garage, watching.

Her father, in a tank-top bent over a 1940 Cadillac, grease up to his elbows. She saw how the lights reflected off his tan skin and in his sun bleached hair. That was when they lived in Israel. When English was a few words she shouted in the car when she saw them on road signs. He was like her knight, strong arms, warm embrace, focused. When he put on a coat, he twirled it over his shoulders, hitting the arm hole every time. Only cool people could do that.

He looked up, “Katie, what are you doing out of bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

He wiped his hands off in a towel and came to pick her up. “That’s okay, because I can’t sleep either.”

He carried her over to the car and pointed into the engine. “What’s that?”

“It’s the battery!”

“And that?”

“The fuselage!”

“Very good.”

“Daddy,” she said. “Why do you fix cars when you can make star ships?”

“Because it’s good to remember where we come from,” he said. “When this car was designed going to the moon was pure fantasy for humanity. Now looks at us.”

“I want to go to space.”

“That sounds about right,” he said. “Just like your grandmother you belong to the stars, You’re a Holt baby, too big for Earth.”)

Pidge activated her rebreather as she stepped out of the elevator. Flanked by Lotor she strode down the hallway. At the end was a door that she made short work of. They walked out into the main chamber of the prison. It was a work room. Dozens of work benches and tables were strewn with tools, data pads, and notes. In the corner someone was designing the model for a new fighter ship. Huge glass windows looked up towards the clouds of the black hole, which passed over the shielding in grand colors. Humbling.

“Wait a minute, you’re new.”

Pidge and Lotor turned to see an alien female sitting on a work bench. She had two arms and a pair of gossamer like wings. Horns twisted back from her head and her skin was a bright red. She tapped her fingers against her knees, she had thin, sharp nails and her her skin was a hard, shiny carapace. She was lovely and yet so hardened looking.

“Who are you?” Lotor demanded.

“Avin,” she said, her voice sweet and melodic.

“I am so glad you exist,” Pidge said, earning an odd look. “I’m a friend of Slav.”

“No kidding,” she said. “How is he?”

“We busted him out of beta-traz,” Pidge said. “Right now he’s talking the ear off the Olkari scientists.”

“Then you’re–” She began.

“The Green Paladin of Voltron,” Pidge said.

“I don’t think we should hang out here much longer,” That was Hunk’s voice from behind her. She turned over her shoulder to see that he was on a balcony over looking the room. “Woah, God, you said you would take care of him!”

He had spotted Lotor and jumped away from the railing, startled. 

“It’s fine!” She called up. “We’re cool.”

“C-Cool?!” Hunk shouted, “What are you talking about?! He’s tried to kill us like, hundreds of times?!”

“It wasn’t personal,” Lotor suggested.

“It wasn’t personal!” She repeated to Hunk.

“I didn’t expect our rescuers,” another person said, walking up to the railing to join Hunk. “To argue and have the Crown Prince of the Galra Empire with them.”

“Former prince,” Lotor muttered, “I was fired.”

Pidge had frozen in place, her eyes fixed onto the person beside Hunk on the balcony. His hair had turned full gray and he looked thinner. The square line of his jaw, she always had his eyes. The lines on his face, new and unique, crags for her to memorize at another time. Her lips formed words that she didn’t know and when he looked at her analytically she remembered she still had the rebreather on. She reached up to her throat to deactivate it.

Her fingers stopped short just as the elevator doors opened. Fray strode out, followed by several sentries. It was at this point Pidge realized she had no weapon on her. She stepped back. Lotor didn’t have his sword but drew his pistol, stepping between her and the oncoming fire. They ducked down behind a work bench together.

“I forgot my gauntlets!” She shouted, hands coming up to smack herself on the head. “God, I’m so stupid!”

“We can argue about the merits of that statement later,” Lotor growled. They were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, there wasn’t much space behind the bench. “We need to protect your father.”

“Are there other slaves beside Samuel and Avin!?” She asked.

“One other,” Lotor said. “Her name is Borne but she’s very reclusive. She should be in that far cell over there, by the window.”

“You handle them,” she said. “I’ll get her.”

Pidge peeked out of cover. Fray had focused fire on her but kept a sentry laying down fire on Hunk and Sam. They had ducked below the metal railing, pinned but safe. Hunk couldn’t return fire with his bayard while she, Lotor, and Avin in the way. Avin had found shelter behind another work bench, safe for now.

“I know you’ve been stripped of your title!” Fray shouted. “I know you’ve betrayed the Empire and your own father, Lotor! You tricked us once but now I’m going to have the pleasure of bringing your head on a platter to the commanders!”

“That’ll be hard,” Lotor shouted back, “Because I’m going to put a bullet through your forehead first!”

Pidge darted out from the cover, dancing between the work benches even as lasers chased her. Behind one bench she found the prototype for a rifle. She checked the battery, fully charged. From where she crouched she waited for Lotor to draw fire with his pistol before peeking out, aiming it at two of the drones in the corner and squeezing the trigger.

The recoil was so much it knocked her over, the rifle coming up to smack her in face plate of her helmet. A huge bolt raced across the room and exploded, knocking out the two drones. Lotor looked at her, only twenty feet away, and gaped. She was as shocked as him. That one shot had drained it’s battery completely, she discarded the weapon as she took the last dive for Borne’s cell.

Pidge hacked the door and slid into the cell.

Paper, real tree paper, was strewn across the floor, covered in pencil marks of complex equations and designs that was beyond even Pidge’s comprehension. Now get this, she was smart, she figured stuff out quick, but she didn’t have an education beyond high school. It was standing in the domain of a true genius that she got a little intimidated.

Borne was tiny, only up to her waist, but she had hair down to her ankles and she sat in the corner furiously scribbling something in a sketch book. She did not acknowledge Pidge. If Borne was even aware of the shoot-out going down outside her door, Pidge couldn’t tell.

“Hey,” Pidge said.

No response.

“Borne?” She asked.

“Yes,” Borne said, her voice sounding like an old creaky door with how she held out the ‘e’. She narrowed her eyes at Pidge, “You’re Samuel’s little girl.”

“How did you–”

“Your aura is just like his.”

Pidge took a solid five seconds to process that before shaking it physically out of her head and continuing with. “We need to go.”

“Go where?”

“They’re shooting at us!” Pidge shouted. “C'mon!”

“Do you have paper?”

“Uh, sure,” Pidge said. “Tons of paper. Back on my ship.”

“Perfect!” Borne said, and stood to lead the charge out of the room.

Pidge grabbed Borne’s arm just in time to stop her from getting her head shot off by a stray laser. “I’ll go first.”

“If you insist,” Borne said.

She stepped out of the cell and came face-to-face with a charging Fray. He jumped a work bench and Pidge narrowly avoided the flying kick to her chest. Fray landed and round housed toward her head, she blocked it with her arm and the hit ran like a shot of pain through her entire shoulder. Pidge struck at Fray’s head only to be hit in the knee with another kick.

She pushed into his center and struck him hard in the face. She couldn’t hit his body because of his armor but she back handed him again across the jaw. Pidge stepped into him and attempted to hook kick him across the face only to be met with his own foot into her throat. She choked, her throat struggling for air only to look up and watch both his boots land heavy in her chest.

The strike blew threw Pidge’s entire body back as she was launched off her feet. Her back hit the window, already strewn with bullet holes, and the glass gave out underneath her weight. She heard people shout her name. Screaming. Borne grabbing onto a secured bench. Her father holding onto Hunk’s arm, whose feet was secured by magnets in the boots of his armor. Lotor staring at her in horror.

She was thrusted into the vacuum of space. Spiraling out of control, all she could see was red and black. Even through the shield she could feel the effects of the sheer gravity of the black hole on her body, pulling her, influencing her feeble mind’s expression of time. A second was like a millennia, or maybe it was the fear and adrenaline pumping in her veins.

For a second, she floated, in a complete state of suspense. Everything hurt. Her chest hurt. Her side hurt. Her ribs hurt. Her leg hurt. Her mind and body was just in a state of constant pain. She did not want to push past this moment. The sky was red to her, imperceptible, beyond any human comprehension. How could she even begin to get back?  
In that moment, Pidge became ever so aware of her insignificance, the smallness of her struggle. She could give all that she had and it might never be enough. She had no more pleas or prayers to offer God, just herself as useless as she was. Helpless, incapable. It was like a centering bolt of lightning that turned her eyes to her right.

She had approached the side of the station and her hands reached out to grab onto a ledge. Her momentum stopped, jerking on her arm, she cried out, the sound only heard in her rebreather. It echoed into silence. It was so quiet out here. Her eyes pushed up and there was her way back in, an outward hatch twenty feet up. Impossibly far. 

Pidge reached out for the next ledge, her fingers straining, even a slip up could lead her spiraling into the vastness of the shield. She found it and she pulled herself along. She was weightless but each movement burned into her as her body stretched, pushing it further towards an unseen limit. Her hand curled around a railing, her fingers were cold, she wasn’t meant to be out in the coldness of space for this long in just a flight suit. The shivers began to rack her body, slamming her teeth against each other. She reached the final rung, wrapped her arm through it and her shaking fingers struggled to activate the command console of the door. 

Her first try failed, her ribs screamed with agony with each desperate, panic breath she took. The second time she managed to enter the override and the door slid open. She threw herself in and it closed behind her. The chamber began to pressurize, adjusting her body to the warmth. Pidge gasped for air, body racking with exhaustion and cold. Gun shots not far away. The fight had moved on.

Pidge groaned as she pushed herself to her feet. She still had some in her and it might kill her, but hiding in a pressure chamber wasn’t how she planned on spending this day. If she could get herself to function for another ten minutes, she would take it.

She stumbled out of the door and down the hall. She was right where she needed to be, back in the entrance chamber to the main room. She found her gauntlets on the ground, she grabbed the right one and the remains of Lotor’s sword, the edge still sharp. Pidge had a plan, a certainty, something she was going to do.

Each step burned and hurt but she traced the sound of the gun fire till she was standing at the start of a hallway. Lotor, Hunk, Borne, Avin, and Dad at the far end returning fire on Fray and his two remaining sentries, whose back was to her. Hunk’s face was bashed in and blood ran down the side of his head, staining his armor red. Dad had a few bruises. They were pinned. Even as she stepped out into the center of the hallway, Lotor shot out another sentry.

Fray turned, saw her. The gap in fire was enough for Hunk to fire on the sentry’s position and obliterate it. Pidge did not move, her focus on Fray in it’s entirety. Her grip tightened on the sword and she rolled her lip between her teeth. She was small. Vulnerable. Alone. It was exactly what he needed, a hostage to change the tide of the battle.

He ran for her and Pidge activated the disable command on her gauntlet. His legs gave out beneath him and he stumbled just a foot from her. Pidge stabbed the sword through Fray’s throat, cutting all the way to the hilt. She dropped it and it clattered to the ground. Fray hit the ground. She stepped over his body and her trembling hand came up to the rebreather at her throat.

She deactivated it and leaned her head back, gasping for breath. Her chest hurt so much, she could barely breath, barely focus. There was something though, something important.

“Katie.”

Her eyes focused back down. Through the double vision she could see him walk towards her, each step hesitant. She took a single weak step, her legs trembled, and then gave. He caught her in his arms, wrapping her tight even as her fists wound into his shirt and her nose buried into the crook of his neck. She breathed him in, there, real.

“Daddy!” She cried out, her voice breaking as weak sobs racked through her body.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I got you, it’s okay, don’t cry.”

There was an entire war behind each gasping sob that ran through Pidge. There was every strike that laid into her. Every cut. Every bullet. Every lonely night. Every desperate moment. Every time she stared at the edge of death and said to herself, 'no, not today’.

No part of this Katie earned as she held so tight to her father she thought she would never let go. He stroked her hair, held her shoulders, kissed her forehead, whispered small comforts in her ear. He could not see the scars but he must’ve known they were there. He could not understand the pain, physical and emotional, but he knew, it was there.

“I’m so sorry!” She cried, “I left Mom. I couldn’t find Matt! I couldn’t find you!”

“It’s all okay,” he said. “You’ve done very good Katie, I’m proud of you.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Lotor said. “But we have a small window before the storm closes and we’re stuck here for another two weeks. Personally, I’m not interested.”

“Ah, Shit,” Pidge said, for the first time removing her face from Sam’s chest. She held onto his arms, “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“I think you just need to hold tight,” Sam said, in a way that made it clear that if she took any action that was besides standing there and looking pretty, he’d object.

“What’d you come on?” Avin asked Lotor.

“My frigate,” he said. “Where are the lions?”

“Outside the storm,” Hunk said. “They weren’t shielded against the radiation and we didn’t feel like coming through that fried and crispy with a few extra tumors. Pidge this is weird, I feel weird talking to him.”

“Not at all interested,” Pidge muttered. Dad had hooked his arm under her shoulders and was the only thing keeping her upright as the walked down the hallways towards the ship bay. “Lotor’s alright, he’s only mostly evil.”

“See, I’m not sure I trust your judgement at the moment,” Hunk said.

“Only mostly evil.”

“There’s my frigate,” Lotor said.

“Eh,” Hunk said. “Not excited about the idea.”

“Three hours to prep the cargo ship for take-off,” Pidge said. “Fuel and shit. We can’t take anything else, none of us our pilots, Lotor is. We need him.”

“What do you mean you’re not a pilot?” Lotor asked.

“Magic shit.” Was her only response.

“An incredible quintessence bond!” Was Borne’s answer..

“Aye, you didn’t get spaced!” Pidge said, sounding excited.

“Nope!” Borne said.

She heard Hunk groan but did not register it as she was hustled onto the frigate. Lotor ran to the bridge and she let go of Sam to stride after him despite a protest. In the bridge Pidge went to the far front console and eyeballed the commands before pulling up the nav system. “What do you need?”

“I need the calculations for trajectory,” He said. Lotor had taken his place at the command position and was starting the engines. “Can you watch the debris field for me?”

“Gladly,” she said.

It had been a few years that Pidge got to act as a communication officer. Fulfilling her duty in navigation and the computer systems. However she found the pattern even as they took off from the station. She opened the outer shield for them and they shot out into the storm. Pushing through the layers of matter was an experience Pidge would never forget.

Standing outside it was one thing, but watching the radiation whip off the ship’s shield and run down the spectrum was breathtaking. Each time she called out the adjustment the ship computer made to their flight path, taking them through debris and avoiding the worst of the radiation, she could feel the ship shift, Lotor making the adjustments. Still through-out the turbulence would shake the entire ship, she could hear the wings groan and the metal expand under the heat.

They cut a far faster pace then the cargo ship but it still took them four hours of careful flight to pull out of the storm. The black expanse of space opened up and Pidge leaned against the dash board heavy, the exhaustion catching up to her. She knew the others had been kicked off the bridge by Lotor a couple hours ago and he himself had collapsed into his chair, head back.

“How did you do that on your own the first time?” She asked she leaned against the side of his chair, part of her hip on the arm rest and her arm draped over the top.

“The storm was much lighter when I first went through,” he said, “It was much easier with you.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Sleep.”

“No,” She said. “Long term. I’m taking Dad back to Earth, I can use the Green Lion for that though. Then, I guess Hunk and I are going to go back to the war front. You said you’re turning your back on Zarkon.”

“I doubt the other Paladins will be as accepting of me as you have.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Pidge said. “Although, yes, Keith and Allura might need some convincing, and once Hunk stops being scared of you, he’s really friendly. I just, I’m asking, if you’ll come with me.”

She did not look at him, the ship pushed through space, different stars flying by. Everything in space was so fast and so slow at the same time. It was all so relative. She could feel his eyes on her though and the hotness on her cheeks.

“It’d make the most sense,” she said. “I mean, we’ve worked really well together, I want to take you to Earth. I want you to see the oceans and the farm, and I’ll show you the cars Dad and I used to work on. You’ll think they’re so weird but Lotor they’re so fast.”

“How hard did Fray hit you?”

“I dunno, I think the floor’s a little tilty though,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows as it got harder to hold her eyes open. “Wait a minute! You’re the one that hit me in the face.”

“I think you got me harder,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. “Your right hook is iconic. Where did you learn to fight?”

“Boxing is my one true love,” she said, setting in a faux stance and throwing a few practice swings. “It’s all fists.”

“You were holding back on Acxa,” he guessed.

“Haha, yeah,” Pidge laughed. "Plus, you know, I was kinda in a lot of pain--

Pidge stopped short when she heard the door to the bridge open. Her eyes slid up to the deck above them. Sam stood at the deck’s edge, looking down at her, watching her with a certain knowing pride that it set at ease an old worry. Pidge looked up at him and caught the eyes of her father, then smiled.

 

End of Act 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Monday, October 23 for Act 3!  
> Thank you for the love and support!


	14. Gimme Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act 3 will be posted on AO3 and Tumblr, one chapter a night until we're out of chapters. Thank you for waiting!

Her foot was braced against the kitchen table and her fingers interlaced behind her head, threaded through her hair to distract from the pain. She breathed heavy through her nose as he finished stitching her side. The frigates engine hummed under them contentedly.   
“Katie,” Sam said. “Are you sure you can trust him?”  
“No,” she said. “But do you remember what you said to me after I beat up Roger?”  
“That's different.”  
“Better a hand extended,” she said. “Then a fist eaten. Not the best phrased, sure, but I figured this could be my new life motto. We wouldn't have gotten out of there if it wasn't for Lotor, and weirdly enough, I trust him.”  
“I think he likes you,” Sam said, tying off the last end of string. He dabbed a bit of a type of cool gel on his palm from a tube and spreaded it over the wound. He poked her lower ribs and made her giggle. “I don't know if that makes me happy or not.”  
“Liking is one thing,” Pidge said, rolling her shirt down. “Being allies is another. We're better off with him then against him. If he betrays me I'll just kick the shit out of him again but for now, I think we're square.”  
“Your logic was always simple,” Sam said.   
“People are simple, dad,” Pidge said. “That have pasts that motivate futures, we're all acting out chemical responses in our brain that pushes us towards survival. Then there's some soul stuff but that's harder to explain. Do you know how the lion's work?”  
“I've heard some rumors and conjecture,” Sam said, standing. The ship's engine began to hum through it's landing cycle. “I'd like a closer look to be certain.”  
“I didn't believe that souls were real,” Pidge said, standing. “Until I connected with a giant cat robot and things got a little hazy. Allura and Coran call it magical bonds, but there's this observed energy, quintessence, that the Galra and Alteans seem to have a monopoly on. It's wily stuff and the line between magic and it gets thinner the longer I stare at it.”  
“I've seen it too,” Sam said. “Let me ask you, what is magic? Something we can't explain, that ye olde peasants believed in because they were gullible, or an actual force of the universe? I was convinced that FTL was impossible and aliens were nothing but single-cell organisms on Kerberos, I was wrong. You told me this last night, that you stopped feeling like an engineer when you left Earth and became more like a mechanic, I felt that way too.”  
“That's past tense,” Pidge said. “You felt.”  
“Yes, and I designed FTL capable ships,” Sam said. “I'm not saying magic isn't real, it is obviously something, we just don't know what that something is. Perhaps the Alteans found true proof of the soul and maybe when we, as messianic Jews, conjectured about the spirit and God, we were onto some truth of reality, from our limited viewpoint.”  
“Or God was revealing something to us,” Pidge said.   
“Perspective,” Sam said. “I don't think religion and science are dynamic opposites, both reveal parts of the universe through different lens. One day I hope to have them consolidated. In the same way that I don't think that 'magic' is opposed to our understanding of relatively. It just means that the people using it don't understand it either.”  
The ship shifted as it set down on the surface. Pidge had flown planet side on the Green Lion last night, picked up some clothes and cash then returned to the frigate. She had never thought about how primitive the tech really was until she found that hacking an ATM and hiding the lion's energy signature was criminally easy. It was just that in five years her understanding of things had broadened so massively.   
“We're here,” Lotor said, coming down the steps from the bridge. “Earth.”  
Pidge looked up at Sam. They were thinking the same thing. She slipped her hand into his and he squeezed. They had this talk during the four day journey to the planet. That things might not be the same. Mom might've remarried, or she could be dead, or that a helluva lot can change in five years. Over six for him. She had no reason to be guilty, Sam had said, but she wasn't sure if she had taken that to heart.   
They walked out of the frigate. Lotor had landed them in the southern field, surprising the hell out of the horses. Pidge's breath caught in her throat as she took in the blue dome stretching over them, white clouds, the edges of summer being taken over by fall. The leaves on the trees turning feint yellows. There was her child hood home, the yellow house with white trim and solar panels on top. The dark-reddish brown barn in the south pasture.  
She closed her eyes and breathed in, the wind on her fingers. The smell of Earth. Nowhere in the Galaxy came close to this place, so unique, so hers. She could understand the pain that Allura felt when she lost Altea. The home world is the genetic history of a species, it's is irreplaceable, this was their collective cradle. Hunk was on the other side of the planet in Hawaii with the Yellow lion, and doing the same thing. He would see the ocean, feel the salt spray, eat familiar food, see his niece and nephew and sisters.  
Sam put his hand on her shoulder and she looked at him. He threaded his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She rested her head against his shoulder.  
“We're home,” she said.   
“We are,” he said.   
They walked up the lane to the house. Pidge found the old key wedged in the siding, sliding her hand through cob webs. Her hands shook so much as she unlocked the door that it took her three tries to get the key into the lock. Finally it gave way. The door swept open to the dark house. There was only two pairs of shoes by the door, one coat on the rack.   
It was quiet, neither Pidge or Sam dared to call out as they crept in. Lotor followed her as she explored every room in the house. Noting the differences, seeing the similarities. On the mantle over the fire place was dozens of framed pictures, she approached it. It was her, Matt, Sam. She looked at Lotor as they looked over them.   
“This is you?” He asked, pointing at a picture of Pidge from middle school. Her hair was in a tight ponytail and she held a gold trophy, standing beside a rowan gelding. That was when she won the hurdling competition on Sir-Computer-Parts. She wore riding gear. She had a crooked grin, freckles on her nose, she was smaller, thinner. Younger. “You had long hair?”  
“I had,” she said, pushing past the monument.   
They crept up the stairs. Pidge avoided the parts that creaked the most but Lotor stomped up. She had given him a small device that changed the color of his skin to a dark brown and hid his ears through holographic imaging. From the corner of her eye as they reached the top, she almost thought he was human. It startled her.   
Her room was to the right and she walked in, expecting a tea room, as Mom had always threatened to turn it into.   
“It's the same,” Pidge said. “It's just like I left it.”  
The quilt was still on the bed. The equestrian trophies still on the bookshelves. The textbooks where she left them. Even her school bag was at the foot of the bed. She opened the drawers and ran her hands over her old clothes. Her telescope and her bean bag. Everything was dusted, placed where, and as it should be. It was as if she had just came home from high school six years ago.  
Pidge began to turn towards Lotor, who waited in the doorway, only to see a figure behind him. Before she could say anything Lotor knee was kicked in and an arm was wrapped around his throat, a pistol pointed at his head.  
“Who are you?! Colleen Holt shouted. “Why are you in my house?!”  
“Mom!” Pidge shouted, her hands flying up. “Mom! Mom! It's me! Katie! It's okay! Shit, don't shoot him!”  
Colleen stopped, her eyes darting up to Pidge who stood with her hands extended towards Lotor. “Katie?!”  
The pistol fell to the floor, forgotten, as Colleen released Lotor and threw herself across the room at Pidge. Pidge caught her mother and held her tight, noting that she could now put her chin over her shoulder. Pidge could feel the bones of her mother's ribs and spine underneath her fingers. This was not a privilege Pidge deserved, to hold her weeping mother as if all was well but she still took it.   
“I thought you were dead!” Colleen cried out. “You were gone! I looked everywhere for you! I never stopped, where did you go?!”  
“It's one helluva a story mom,” Pidge said. “It's okay, I'm here now.”  
“And who is that,” Colleen asked suddenly, she turned to look at Lotor.  
“Um,” Pidge began, “That is-- uh, Lo-- gan! Logan, yes, Logan. He's my friend.”  
“Hello,” Lotor said, raising his hand in salutation.   
“I'm sorry you have to see me like this,” Colleen said, wiping her eyes. “I haven't seen Katie in five years.”  
“I understand,” Lotor said. “In fact, it's quite heartwarming to see a family reunited.”  
Pidge grinned.   
“Colleen?” Sam called from the bottom of the stairs.  
Colleen gasped, her eyes widened and her hand flew up to her mouth. She looked at Pidge, her shoulders shaking, her feet frozen to the floor. Pidge only grinned.  
Colleen ran out of the room to the stair's landing and her hand gripped the banister so tight her knuckles went white. She sighed, her shoulders shrugging down her back, and she started down the stairs. Just one step at a time. Pidge and Lotor followed her.   
“This is-- They said,” Colleen said, she was halfway down the steps and Sam mounted them to reach out his hand to her. She stared at the offered hand, Pidge could only see her back. “You're alive.”  
“I'm alive baby,” Sam said, and Colleen took his hand. He pulled her into his arms. He laughed into her hair, petting the back of her hand and then he kissed her, deep and full.   
“Oh, Katie,” Colleen said, separating from Sam's kiss. She looked up at the stairs. “I'm so sorry, I don't know how you knew, but you were right Katie! I don't understand, but you were right, they were alive!”  
Pidge took a step down the stairs, but hesitated before putting her full weight into the step, “I don't have Matt.”  
Colleen's face fell and Sam's hand tightened on her shoulder.  
“But I think he's alive,” Pidge continued. “I think I can find him, and I'll bring him home--”  
“Katie,” Sam said. “You've done fine.”  
“Come here,” Colleen said.   
Pidge ran down the stairs and into the arms of her parents. She thought she had cried herself out, but she managed a few more tears. There were somethings she had left to the theorizing of her dreams, this was one of them. To be handed something so precious, something she had always taken for granted, there was nothing in the universe to compare.  
She suddenly pulled back and asked, “Mom! Did you sell the cars?!”  
“A couple of them,” Colleen said. “I didn't sell the Mustang, if that's what you're asking.”  
Pidge grinned broad, all teeth, she looked up the stairs and yelled at Lotor, “Meet me at the barn!”  
She ran out of the house, remembered that she still had several holes in her, and then walked the rest of the way. Lotor caught-up to her at the barn door, it was chained up and locked. Pidge found the key hanging in the oak tree, growing tall towards the sky. The lock and chains fell to the ground and Lotor helped her pull open the doors. They strode in and light shone in through the entrance to land on the object of Pidge's frenzy.   
Two cars remained, the old cadilliac which was Sam's father's back in the day and the mustang, Pidge and Matt's pet project. It was a 1975 black and red t-top Ford Mustang II King Cobra, stuffed with the most powerful gas V8 engine Pidge and Matt could get their hands on semi-legally. She checked the oil and gas, then the innards of the engine to make sure everything was in line.   
She leaned over the door to remove the keys from the sun shade. She unlocked the door, reached over to unlock the passenger side and let Lotor in. He slid into the seat and felt the material, “Very smooth.”  
“Real leather,” She said, as she started the car. She giggled at the rumble of the engine. In space it was all smooth whines and hisses, but a V8 kicking into life? It was the growl of a true beast of power, speaking of primitive intimidation and satisfaction. “Genuine cow butt.”  
“What's a cow?” He asked, as she backed the car out of the barn, “What are we in?”  
“It's a car,” she said. Pidge started in first gear as they rolled down the driveway to the open road, “A classic.”   
“And why are we driving it?” Lotor asked, his hand came up to brace against the top of the windshield, the wind already catching his hair.   
“Because it's fun,” she grinned at him.  
“You know I pilot a fighter at almost FTL speeds right?”  
“It's all relative,” She said.   
At the end of the driveway she turned out onto the road, revved the engine and began to release the clutch. Her timing was off, natural after the interim, but the car still shot off with the purr of a revved engine. Pidge cackled, one hand guiding the wheel as they flew down the road and the other working the transmission as she pushed the car past sixty, to eight, to hundred flat. These were old, empty, hill roads out in the boonies of the Carolina mountains. God, she missed the valleys and the curves, the beautiful tall, shapely trees and the red clay of her home state. The shale, the graphite. The creeks.   
She drifted a sharp curve, pumping the clutch to keep the momentum. Lotor's hand grasped the inside of the door, his feet pressed into the floor and his butt wedged as far as he could get it into the leather. His knees were pressed against the dash and his eyes were wide, despite the masses of hair falling into his face.   
Pidge turned on the radio, few people still broadcasted on the old signals but the stations that did out here, played the classics. Pidge rapped her fingers against the familiar rift of the old band.  
“What are you doing?!” Lotor asked. His knuckles were still white on the dashboard, but he was grinning.   
“Enjoying myself!” Pidge laughed.  
She stopped them at a look-out, just as the sun was starting to set. She parked the car and clambered out of the hood. She went over to the rock wall and perched herself, one leg tucked under her as she took in the glorious sight. She had seen many sunsets, but this one, this one was her favorite. It was all paints of orange and purple, the perfect shades.   
“Beautiful,” Lotor said, walking up beside her. “Is this why you dragged me out here?”  
“Something like that,” she said, “I figured I'd need to give mom and dad time to bang anyway.”  
“Bang?”  
“Do the do,” she said. “Copulate. Bonk junk. Rock the boat. Have sex.”  
“Ah,” He said at the last one.   
“They have a lot of time to make-up,” Pidge said, “And it's for the best that they don't get used to me being there.”  
“You think you'll leave soon?” Lotor asked.   
“We might have to,” she said. “You said that Haggar made a coup de grace on you? Who's in control of the Empire now? Her?”  
“Originally we kept power when Zarkon was in the coma,” Lotor said, “because then we could say I was just ruling in his place. Then when Zarkon passed, we couldn't keep the illusion. I was forced to take full control but even then, it was, tenuous. I imagine she realized that she could have more power and control without me. There's been all sorts of rebellions and internal issues, she was just the first one that was smart enough to get it to work.”  
“If this gets messy,” Pidge said. “We'll be handling it for our combined life times.”  
“And things in this war get messy,” Lotor added.  
“Very messy,” she agreed. “This is good and bad. If there's that much internal issue, then we should capitalize.”  
Lotor leaned against the wall. “I've spent so long invested in only the Empire, the Galra might. I feel as if I'm without foundation.”  
“You'll find it,” she promised.   
“What did you mean?” He asked. “When you said you live because of the ones you love? Not for?”  
“When you live for someone,” Pidge said. “You need them. It's like, when the crash happened I needed Matt and Dad. I needed them in my life, to be happy, to be who I am. I --” she looked down at her hand and spread out her fingers in consideration of herself. “I didn't know, or I did know, I just didn't trust myself enough. Even after infiltrating the Garrison I was just following this track I had put myself on.   
“That changed when I was in space,” Pidge said. “It wasn't long after we arrived and got the lions. The castle had been infiltrated, it was me alone in there with people who wanted me dead, I was terrified but I fought on and I realized I wasn't fighting for myself. I was fighting because of the others, for Matt, and Dad, and an entire universe. It wasn't about me anymore, and it was like, I stopped coasting, and started driving.”  
She looked at Lotor.   
“You find it,” she repeated. “Or, maybe it finds you.”  
“My family was my foundation,” Lotor said. “Now that's gone, it's good, I feel better now then I have in my entire life. Like, I'm at the start of something. Now I have nothing, and I don't know what lies before me. It's exhilarating, and terrifying. I see you and your family interact, and I see what I never had. That love. It almost made me mad, but that's just my immaturity speaking. I wish I had what you had, Katie.”  
She took a breath and then reached down to peel his hand away from the wall. His fingers curled around hers, much longer and warm, “You can, we just start here, like brother and sister.”  
He squeezed her hand, “do you normally just adopt people into your family?”  
“Shit, I got five other brothers,” Pidge said. “You'd hardly be the favorite. Heh, how old are you?”  
“Older then Shiro,” he grinned, letting go of her hand.   
“I'm the third oldest then,” Pidge said. “If they accept you, Hunk was pretty freaked, I still don't know how I got him to agree to telling Allura.”  
“That's one thing we haven't discussed,” Lotor said.   
“Right now,” Pidge said, she pressed herself up so she stood on the wall. The wind picked at her hair. “I don't care.”  
“I'm sure your parents want more time with you,” he said. “I don't think your mother liked me.”  
“You were some weird guy breaking into her house,” Pidge said, as she jumped down from the wall. “Also, she might've assumed that you were my shitty boyfriend that I eloped with when I was eighteen or something.”  
“Boyfriend?”  
“Uh, partners, lovers?”  
“I thought we were siblings?”  
“I'm just talking perception,” she said, she tossed Lotor the keys. He caught them with one hand and stared at them as if they were a strange device. She opened the passenger and slid into the seat. “Have at it, pretty boy.”  
“You want me to drive?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“You're a pilot,” she grinned. “You should be able to handle a clutch and besides, driving is a huge part of Earth culture. You need to know how.”  
Lotor sighed and got into the driver side. He looked at the wheel and then the pedals, then at the radio. His lips formed a thin line as he observed his options.  
“Key goes there,” Pidge said, pointing. He put the key in the ignition. “Now turn it, not too far, just start the engine. It'll kick-- easy on my transmission!”  
“Okay,” Lotor said.   
“You have to shift gears,” she said. “So you press on the middle pedal and compress the far left, that'll release the clutch, shift to gear one, and then you press the gas, and it'll go.”  
Lotor's eyebrows knit together as he looked down at his feet. He looked at the drive shaft. He looked down at his feet. Pidge watched with a crooked grin as he compressed the clutch, attempted to shift, and pressed the gas to fast. The car engine died with a sad chortle.   
“What'd I do wrong?” He asked over her giggles. “What kind of machine is this anyway? And how are you so good at it?”  
“C'mon Lotor,” Pidge said, “I've been driving clutch since I was tall enough to reach the pedals! This car has a light clutch so this should be easy. You pressed the gas too fast, you have to basically compress the clutch halfway, release the brake, and then hit the gas.”  
It took them five more tries for Lotor to get the car moving. He laughed triumphantly when they finally started rolling. Pidge kept her hand draped between them, just six inches from the wheel as Lotor began to drive the car back home.   
“You can shift to a higher gear,” she said, “And it'll go faster. All the clutch does is connect the engine to the wheels, when you shift to a higher gear, it puts more torque on the drivetrain, giving more power to the car wheels. God damn! That's a stop sign! Stop!”  
They passed the stop sign at fifty miles an hour, “How do I stop?!”  
“The middle pedal!” She said. “Clutch, middle! All the way down.”  
Pidge's seat belt was the only thing that stopped her forehead from making a violent acquaintance with the dashboard when Lotor slammed the break in the middle of the road. She groaned, and leaned back into her seat, quietly glad for the millionth time in her life about that surgery that removed her ability to have children.   
She would never have to do this with an actual prepubescent of her own flesh. Thank God.  
“I can do this,” Lotor said, restarting the car.   
What Pidge had anticipated when she gave Lotor the keys was a good laugh at watching an alien trying to figure out the primitive technology of a car clutch. What she did not anticipate was a heart stopping forty minute drive back to the farm where Lotor broke every traffic law he could manage in that twenty mile strip of highway. She also did not anticipate that he would absolutely refuse to hand the vehicle over to her, despite her asking every time he stalled the car or popped the clutch.   
By the time they were back at the farm and Lotor had parked the car, her foot was braced against the dash and her nails had left lines in the vinyl. She plucked the key from the ignition and said, “You are never driving again.”  
“Once I have it figured it out,” Lotor said, getting out of the car. “I'll be as good as you.”  
“I'm not sure I'm going to let you drive enough,” she said, “to 'figure it out', c'mon, we'll knock loud so that way we don't catch Mom and Dad boning on the counter.”  
Despite all the things that laid behind them, Pidge found, as they snuck into the house and found her parents passed out –clothed-- on the couch, that all things were normal. It was as it should be as she lead Lotor upstairs, showed him the couch in the upstairs common room, and told him to sleep there. Instead he asked about the TV, or 'the strange glass window box thing' as he called it. She showed him how it worked, found that a Star Wars marathon was running, and ended up sitting down with him.   
Somewhere after Darth Vader revealing his parentage to Luke, she fell asleep.


	15. Red Moon Rising

Pidge woke-up to the sound of the shower in her parent's bathroom running. It had to be a dream. Light filtered in through the sky light, warm and yellow, casting the white walls in a beautiful glow. The TV was still on, but it's volume low, showing some John Wayne movie. Her legs were tucked under a blanket and Lotor leaned against the arm rest, his head rolled against his shoulder. His leg extended along the back of the couch and the other dangled off the edge. At some point in the night she had moved so her head rested against his chest. She stayed still for a moment, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the faint heartbeat audible through the fabric of his t-shirt.

Maybe when Pidge was younger she would've been embarrassed but not waking up alone was a gift she was rarely given. She took it wherever and whenever she could get it. She shifted to look up at him.

It took Pidge sixteen years to figure out that she didn't experience her sexuality like others did. Pidge had never cared for dating or any form of romance, it was not in her nature and she was fine with that. Sure, in the five years she spent in space she had a small handful of sexual flings, blowing off steam, getting the stress of a battle off. The early years were filled with wild and random hook-ups. Sexually she was a late bloomer, hitting the full swing of her puberty in her late-teens and early twenties in the middle of a war with four other sexually available humans, led to, problems.

She probably made out with Keith at least five times. Shiro was too straight laced to accept hook-up sex but was prone to aggressive cuddling. Hunk was the only one of the guys that PIdge hadn't hit-up, a combination of none compatible sexuality and too great of a respect of their shared friendship. This was all well and fine, at least to Pidge. It turned out that Keith had the emotional development of a pre-teen and she had totally blown him off. Shiro had been trying to start an actual with her. In both cases she had totally misread the situation, but it was fine, nothing that a violent sparing match couldn't fix and a following session of talking it out.

Shit hit the proverbial fan when she had no strings attached sex with Lance and Lance got attached. Pidge panicked. The situation escalated until Shiro got involved and the sheer awkwardness of that conversation destroyed any residual interest between them. Lance was in a committed relationship with Hunk now, so it was all good, but still. There was a few months there where she was certain she destroyed any friendship they had between them. 

It wasn't that Pidge had commitment issues, it was that she did not consider her relationships in the same ways others did. She had a healthy libido and while the urge and need to release was rare, she wasn't afraid of indulging it. She was a soldier in a war, God would have to contend with her murders before her sex life, or that was her logic. Killing men was hard, hooking up was easy, or so thought. There was no telling what Lotor would want moving forward, and she wasn't sure she knew either. They would have to figure out and Pidge would have to pray she didn't fuck-up.

He roused a few minutes after her. He inhaled, she felt his heartbeat quicken, and then relax. His hands lifted from where they had curled around her waist, as if afraid of touching her and then he noticed that she was watching him. The corner of his lip curled up. When she didn't move away, his hands came to rest back down on her, this time holding her shoulders to him as his fingers played into her hair. 

“How do you feel?” He asked. 

“Not bad,” she said.

“Then you're comfortable with this?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” She asked, pressing her cheek against his chest. “How about you?”

“It's, nice.”

“I'm glad,” she said, pushing herself up and running her hands through her hair. “Because my leg is dead.” Lotor's eyebrow knit together and she elaborated. “Lack of blood flow, Logan.”

She slid off the couch. Sometime last night she had kicked off her sneakers but she was still wearing her jeans. She walked into her room and found her old clothes in the drawers. Pidge held up a t-shirt and cursed under her breath. It was too small. She dug through the drawers and yanked out all the clothes. 

She had two piles, stuff that would fit and stuff that wouldn't laying on the bed by the time Lotor leaned against her door frame. He watched her strip off a shirt that she could barely raise her arms in and toss it on the bed. Pidge, only in her bra and old gym shorts, held up a pain of jeans to her hips and frowned. 

“Some things do change,” Lotor chuckled. 

“I don't think these are going to fit,” She said, pulling down the shorts. She stopped halfway and realized that her mother was standing in the hallway. Watching. “Mom, I can explain.”  
“I was in the military once,” Colleen said, raising her hand, her hair was in a towel. “I was young too.”

She walked down the stairs and Pidge's hand smacked her forehead. She pulled the shorts back on. “She thinks I have no inhibitions.”

“I didn't do anything,” Lotor said. “And I feel like she dislikes me even more.”

“I'm sure she doesn't dislike you,” Pidge began. “Okay, maybe a little resentment. Listen. We're going to have to meet up with Hunk, and go. They need us at Contraxia. So, I guess we're back at last night's question, what are you going to do?”

“Go with you,” he said. “I suppose. I did a lot of thinking last night, and I think watching those movies helped me decide, but you are right I can see no way of redeeming the Empire. If I don't deserve redemption, then how can I argue you it for Galra like Commander Yandras or Orlan?”

“We could,” Pidge said, “Start encouraging the break-up. Divide and conquer. My biggest concern is Haggar though, if we don't take care of her, then this might be for nothing. She's outmaneuvered us before and I feel like firing you is a step in a plan.”

“Haggar was never ambitious or power hungry,” Lotor said. “Or at least not for political power but since Zarkon died, she has changed.”

“The first thing we need to do is go back to the front," She pulled on her shirt, "And gauge what's happening there. Actually, the first thing I need to do is call Allura and tell her about you. It's three weeks to Contraxia so maybe in that time she'll soften up towards you a little. At least enough that she won't murder you the moment she sets eyes on you."

“Will we take the Lion or the Frigate?” Lotor asked. 

“Frigate out of Earth,” Pidge said. “Then we'll take the lion, she's faster and it'll be hard getting into rebel space with it.”

Pidge finished dressing and went downstairs to see Colleen was vigorously mixing batter in a bowl. A little investigation revealed she was making peanut butter pancakes. She had to admit, there was a lot of self-control that went into not stealing the jar last night. That paid off. Still no amount of pancakes was going to overcome the pain of having to tell her mother that she had to go.   
“Back to the war?” She asked.

“Back to the war,” Pidge said. “I don't know when I can come back.”

“I get it,” Colleen said. 

“Were you in Earth's military?” Lotor asked. 

“I spent ten years as a combat medic in the Israeli Army,” Colleen said. “Katie, I know what war is like, I've seen the worst side of it and I can only imagine the hell that's up there. But, you are an adult now, just no more radio silence? I need to know you're alive, I can't have you vanish on me again."

“I promise,” Pidge said. “What's Dad plan?”

“Spend a few more weeks recuperating,” She said. “Sleep in a lot. Get a little fatter. I'm sure at some point he'll break and decide to start updating all of Earth's technology single handedly. Lord have mercy, Katie do you know how weird this is?”

“I can imagine,” Pidge grinned. “I promise, next time you see me, I'll have Matt.”

“I'll pray ever day that you do,” Colleen said. She put the bowl down and walked across the kitchen to run her fingers through Pidge's hair. “Come back even if you don't. I don't want to loose both of my kids again.”

“I love you, mom,” Pidge said. 

“I love you too,” she said. “I'll miss my girl but knowing you're alive, that'll make it a little easier.”

Pidge could only smile.

She cried when she ate the pancakes. Before they left she crept upstairs and into her parent's bedroom. Sam was still asleep in bed, his hair laid out across the pillows, his arm folded over his bare-chest. Pidge padded across the floor and leaned against the edge of the bed, appreciating the view of her sleeping father. Then she kissed him on the forehead. 

“Hey girl,” He said, his eyes opening. 

“Hey, Dad,” she said. 

“Is it time?” He asked.

“Yeah,” She grinned ruefully.

“Hmm,” he grunted and his arm curled around her neck, pulling her down into bed with him. Pidge giggled as she hugged him, letting her head rest against the nape of his shoulder. “I know something, Katie.”

“What's that?” She asked. They were whispering, like she was a kid again that had snuck into the room early in the morning and they were trying not to wake Mom up.

“Matt's out there,” he said. “And if I know him, he'll find you. No doubt about it.”

“I'll be back soon.”

“You better,” he said. 

Sam got out of bed and pulled on a shirt. Colleen handed him a mug of coffee as he walked her out to the ship. There was more hugging. Pidge embraced her parents and made promises she didn't know if she could keep. To Pidge's shock, she watched Colleen wrap her arm around Lotor's neck and pull him into a fast hug before pecking a kiss on his cheek. Lotor was still a flushed shade when they made it to the bridge. 

“You better not be thinking anything pervy about my mom,” Pidge said as Lotor started the engines. She took his chair and squirmed a little. “This thing is just metal, I mean, God, can you imagine what this is doing to your back?”

“I did notice you had strangely comfy chairs on Earth,” Lotor said. 

“Your species is the most advanced and intelligent in the galaxy,” Pidge said. “And they haven't invented comfy chairs?”

“The Galra only call themselves that,” Lotor chuckled.

Pidge forced herself to remain seated. If she took one last look at her parents as they left she was certain she'd break down and cry. So her butt remained planted and her fingers dug into the arm rests of the chair. Her fingernails scraped against cold metal. She didn't open her eyes until she felt the ship break the atmosphere, when the turbulence smoothed out to the luxurious emptiness of space. Lotor was setting the coordinates.

“I figured we'd go just out of dark space,” he said. “Switch ships.”

“Hold on,” Pidge said. 

She cleared her throat. 

“Captain Log,” She said in her best William Shatner voice. “We have been wandering in the system known as Sol for three days with no food or water. The strange alien piloting the ship seems to be-- what?”

“What are you talking about?” Lotor demanded, turning from the nav computer.

“It's Star Trek,” She said defensively.

“We watched that last night,” He said. “And I didn't hear anything like what you were going on about.”

“No, no,” she said. “Star Trek. we watched four and five of the Star Wars movies last night. It's different.”

“What do you mean we watched the fourth and fifth movies?” He asked. “You said those two were the first two.”

“They were,” She said. “Technically. But they're the fourth and fifth in the stories.”

“So there's six movies?”

“Twelve,” She corrected, “The prequels are set before four and five but four and five were made first.”

“That makes no sense,” Lotor said. 

“Listen,” Pidge said. “We have three weeks to the front and I downloaded all twelve movies, the entire original series of Star Trek, and all the movies and shows I've missed in the past six year. You'll be an expert on Earth Culture by then.”

“We have an incoming message,” Lotor said. A red triangle appeared on the screen. 

“Open it, Lieutenant Uhura,” she said, “It's probably Hunk.”

It was not Hunk. 

Actually it was a pissed alien that started yelling at them in a language so off the charts that it took Pidge's translator forty-eight seconds to catch-up and start to give her even snippets of what he was saying. She stood and walked over beside Lotor. She squinted and then noticed the insignia on the alien's chest armor.

“Hold on, that's a rebel,” she whispered. 

“One of those splinter cells?” Lotor whispered back. “They're this far out?”

“Apparently,” she said. 

“I am the Paladin of the Green Lion,” Pidge interjected. “Head of Intelligence for the Voltron Alliance, this is a captured Galra ship, we're friendlies!”

“Haha, like I believe that!” The alien shouted. “You have a Galra right next to you!”

“What Galra?” Pidge asked. “I don't see any Galra.”

“You dare mock me?!” The alien growled. “We have a fleet converging on your location, prepared to be destroyed!”

The feed cut. 

“Crap,” She said. "I may have misjudged his sense of humor."

Lotor grabbed her arm, “let's go!”

“Wait, where are we going?” She demanded as he pulled her up the stairs towards the elevator. 

“The fighter in the bay,” he said. “We can launch from the frigate, let it be destroyed.”

“Renola is nearby,” Pidge said. “We can land and see if we can reason with these guys?"  
“I'm not sure that's a possibility,” Lotor said in the elevator, they both flinched when the first shot rocked the frigate. “From a half-lightyear away, they fired the shot and then called us. Their gunman must be very good to predict where we'd be.”

“When we're not about to die,” Pidge said. “We can be impressed by their skill.”

In the bay Lotor tossed Pidge her flight suit and rebreather. In record time they threw on their suits. Lotor was in full armor in less then five minutes and she was finishing the seals on her suit when the second shot hit, probably in the left wing based on how the ship groaned. She threw her jacket on over her shoulders as Lotor readied the fighter. She was kicking her boots back on when he demanded:

“We need to go now!”

“Are we gonna fit?” Pidge demanded as she climbed the wing towards the cockpit. Lotor had already settled into the sole pilot seat. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her into his lap before closing the hatch over them. “You can pilot like this?!”

“I'll have to,” he grunted and pulled her closer to his chest as his hand rested on the controls. 

Pidge's hand braced against the hatch when the bay doors opened and Lotor activated the thruster. They shot of the frigate just as a hail of shots landed on the ship and it exploded, shaking the entire fighter. Lotor corrected his coarse and Pidge cussed under her breath. Staying on the frigate would've been a death sentence. It was at that point she noticed the entire fleet surrounding their position. 

“Can the Green Lion help?!” Lotor asked, he guided the fighter down, trying to cut the plane, angling them towards the Renola System and Renola-6. The craft danced the lasers, the guidance system predicting their courses and informing Lotor on corrections.   
“She can't use her weapons without me!” Pidge said. She braced her boot against the dash and finished lacing it. “I don't know if these hicks will recognize her or Yellow though! Those frigates are going to trap us.”

Two frigates, approaching from the port and starboard began to flank them, running on their heading. The cross fire alone created a nettle trap of explosive blasts yet Lotor pushed the control sticks forwards, putting more power in rear thrusters. 

“Trust me,” Lotor said, his voice a low growl in her ear.

There was a helluva lot of difference between make a risky maneuver when you were the one flying the giant, protected cat robot and being passenger to a risky maneuver in a tiny, one man fighter. The difference was enough for Pidge to lean even further back into Lotor's chest, her fingers digging into the armor around his thigh, and for her to start making a strange keening noise as Lotor accelerated, creating a deadly game of chicken where they were a tiny bug going against the equivalent of an SUV. 

Suddenly he yanked back on the sticks and their course changed, shooting them up, forcing the frigates to readjust to avoid hitting each other. Having escaped the circle of the fleet, Lotor angled the wings towards Renola and hit the atmosphere at a steep angle of entry. Pidge caught her breath as fire licked off the windshield and then opened up when they broke through the clouds, revealing a bright blue sky. 

Lotor's hand came back around her waist and adjusted her in his lap. Which was nice because she wasn't sure she could move. “We have a transmission from the Yellow Paladin.”

“Hey, guys,” Hunk's face appeared on the screen. “What's going on? Where are you? I'm at the coordinates on the North hemisphere side of Renola and you aren't here. Are you in his lap?!”

“There's not a lot of room in here Hunk,” Pidge growled. “It was a trap, a rebel fleet destroyed the frigate so we're in the fighter. We're in atmosphere on the Southern Hemisphere. I need you to come to these coordinates.”

She selected a position on the map of Renola in the mountains, an area that would be easier for them to land in then the dreadnoughts and carriers. She sent the coordinates to Hunk and then directed Lotor to them. 

“So I have no plan other then showing off my lion and hoping it scares the crap out of them,” Pidge said. “You got one?”

“They probably have the fighter's trace by now,” Lotor said. “Unless we go on foot, we're not ditching them.”

“Green and Yellow can handle these idiots easily,” Pidge said. “It's just I want to make friends.”

“That's a little different,” Lotor said. “Here's the location you found.”

He started the landing cycle, and put them down in a small clearing of rocks. The landing was clean and easy, a sign of a pro. 

“Alright, let's go,” she said, moving to stand only to hit her head against the hatch. Her head came up to cradle her bruised forehead as she awkwardly half-stood, crouched over his lap. “Hey, Lotor, do you mind?"

“Hold on,” he said, arm curling around her hips again and sitting her back in his lap. His chin rested on her shoulder. “We have a couple minutes and I like you here.”

“We're both in helmets, you idiot!” She laughed. “And your armor isn't that comfy. This morning you were so shy, what's gotten into you?”

“Life threatening experiences makes a man reconsider his priorities,” he said. Both his arms were now wrapped around her waist and he adjusted her jacket. “And having a pretty girl in his lap does too.”

Pidge leaned back into him so her head was even with his and said, “You're the worst.”

“I try,” he said, and then popped the hatch. He picked up Pidge by the hips and placed her on the wing of the fighter before he unfolded his long limbs from the cockpit. “There's the Yellow Lion, and Green behind him.”

Pidge jumped down from the fighter and was secretly glad that Hunk was aggressive about his landing this time. Yellow threw up a small cloud of dust and crushed a tree under it's rear paw before Hunk climbed out of it's jaw in full armor. 

“How was your family?” She asked. 

“I have a new sister!” Hunk crowed, he ran over to Pidge. “She's like this big and two, and she's the cutest thing I have ever seen. Like she keeps her hair in pig tails and-- How was your mom?”

“She's good,” Pidge said. “Dad's with her on Earth. So, any ideas to deal with our new problems?”

“Besides beating them up with the lions?” Hunk said. “I imagine a good ole' fashioned Texas stand-off would open means of communication.”

“How are we going to get them to land?” Lotor asked.

“Escalation of force?” She suggested.

“No, need,” Lotor said. “They're flying Era 3 Orlan recon ships. They're not designed for bombing runs, our position on the ground means they'll be forced to land. They also might think that the frigate had a crew, and that we're the only survivors, thinking to capture us for information they'll trek over on foot. I suggest we send them a surrender communication and keep the lions in our sleeves unless we need them.”

“I like it,” Pidge said, looking at Hunk. “You wanna hang low, big guy?”

“Okay,” Hunk said. “But first sign of trouble and Yellow's having an early lunch.”

“I know you have my back,” Pidge said. They traded fist pumps, “the ridge to the East should hide you.”

Hunk climbed back into the Yellow Lion and it took off with a single bound towards the ridge. 

Pidge looked at Lotor and smirked, “You ready?”

“Always, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, question.   
> AO3 Automatically spaces fan fictions single space, which to me, is way to close to be comfortable reading. I've almost always added a line between my paragraphs and I'll probably keep doing that, but I was wondering. Do any of you ever care or notice that?


	16. Lay It On Me

The ships, two frigates and a fighter, landed a half-klick West of their position, right where Lotor had predicted.He and Pidge stood by the fighter waiting for the aliens to approach. From far off Pidge did a head count. Around fifty aliens got out to stretch their legs but only ten headed their direction. Blocked in groups of two they approached from both flanks, cutting through the forest, and they appeared at the tree line, thirty feet out. 

“We're friendly,” Pidge said, holding up her hands. 

“Explain the Galra,” a tall female alien said. 

“He's friendly too,” Pidge said, she began to walk through the clearing, indicating with her hand for Lotor to stay in place. “Not all Galra are evil, you know, and we're not on opposite sides. We're unarmed.”

The partner for the female was a smaller, thin alien in full armor and holding a staff. She could feel the others close in, one weary step at a time as Pidge approached the leading pair. The female wore a dark blue helmet that hid her face but in her long, slender arms was a large rifle that was pointed at Pidge's head. Pidge was only ten feet away when she halted herself mid-stride.

“I'm the Paladin of the Green Lion,” Pidge said. “We're on the same side. Fighting Galra. You're rebel right? We've always appreciated the work you've done out here. Always regretted not being able to get in touch, it's hard talking so far out, you know.”

“We know,” The female said. “Except Voltron's just a myth. A child's tale. We saw the battleship, a convincing replica.”

“I guarantee that's no replica,” Pidge said. 

“Ragnok wants us to kill them,” The small one said softly. 

The female looked down at him for a moment, she looked across the clearing, and then at Pidge. Pidge waited, her hands up, waiting for the call. She kept her weight forward, muscles braced and tensed, ready to dive. Pidge's darted the clearing again, checking the positions of the rebels. The female looked back at Pidge and Pidge could swear that they made eye contact despite the darkened visors and helmets between them. 

“Tranq them,” The female ordered.

Pidge dove forward just as a tranquilizer round flew past her ear, cutting through the air with a hiss. She kicked out the leg of the small one, grabbed his staff, and jabbed the end down into his gut. He kicked her knee and using the time she took to regain her balance to rise to his feet, grabbing the staff in the center. They struggled over it, trying to find the leverage, until she let him have it. 

The smaller one followed where he had placed his weight. He stumbled towards her and she twisted the staff out of his grip. She inserted the staff into his elbow and across his back, pinning him into a chicken wing. She grabbed the back of his collar and positioned him between her and her other opponents. She checked over her shoulder to see that Lotor had jumped over the fighter and taken cover behind the wing. 

“Hold up!” Pidge shouted, now that she had a hostage the firing stopped. She raised one hand above her head, a universal hold signle. “I will snap this guys arm! Now! We can be reasonable and nice, or I can throw the equivalent of a space divine reckoning on you! It's your choice! Are we doing this the hard way or the easy way?!”

"You're out numbered," The female said, striding forward but PIdge grabbed the small one and yanked him by the neck to her. She wrapped her arm around his throat. The female hesitated. "It's five to one."

"You have no idea what I have in the wings," PIdge growled, the rebels were closing a circle and she moved back several strides. "My name is Pidge Gunderson, I am the Paladin of the Green Lion--"

"Katie."

It came from her hostage, a hoarse whisper that pulled her short and broke her focus. Her grip loosened. The staff slipped from her hand and then he pushed his hip into hers, dropped his center, and she was thrown clear over his head. Pidge hit the ground hard, the air leaving her ribs but not a moment later did she drive her hand into his knee, grasping his calf to break his balance. She rose-up, grabbed him by his cloak, dug two fingers under the edge of his helmet and pried it off. 

Matt and Pidge grasped each other. He had a fist of her jacket, and she twisted a fistful of his cloak in her hand. His other hand grasped her shoulder tight, and then he touched her face, running his thumb along her cheekbones, eyes wide as if he was uncertain she was real. They staggered, half-supporting each other, both about to fall over. Pidge's lips parted in a single, unvoiced question, and Matt only started laughing. She laughed too. 

“Matt!” She shouted, her hands grasping at his face. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

She didn't think about the stand-off and the strange looks the two got as she was suddenly clutching her brother around the neck. He picked her up, spun her, pulled her face into his hands, kissed her forehead. She hugged him again. 

“I don't understand!” He said. “How are you? What?”

“You're a rebel?!” She asked. 

"You're the Paladin of the Green Lion?!" He asked. 

“Yes!”

“How?!”

“I was looking for you!” She said quieter, “and it happened.

“Why didn't you go home?” They asked together.

“I was looking for dad,” They said together.

“I have Dad!” Pidge laughed. “He's on Earth, I found him and he's with Mom! Haha, this is the best week ever!”

“Do you have my glasses?” Matt asked. “The ones I left on Earth?”

“Shit,” she said, face falling. “They were on the frigate.”

“The one we blew-up?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Honestly, I'm surprised they made it this far.”

“Pidge, I really liked those.”

“You're fine,” she said. She patted his shoulder and turned to Lotor to point at Matt. “Lotor! Look! It's my brother! My Dad was right! He did find me! And quick too!”

“I noticed,” Lotor said, as he emerged from behind the frigate. “Actually, I was wondering if you noticed we were in the middle of a confrontation?”

“Matt,” The female alien said, removing her helmet. She had thin eyes and a long nose that ended flat against her dark, scaly face. Her eyes were a bright gold, the irises so big that she had no whites. “Who is this?”

“My sister,” Matt said. “Katie, or Pidge, depending on how you feel and the weather.”

“This, changes things,” The female alien said. She looked at Pidge, “My name is Vera, I am the co-commander of our cell. Why did you not mention you were related to Matt?”

“I didn't know,” Pidge said. “I mean, I did know, obviously he's my brother, but I didn't know that he was here. I haven't seen him in years. You were in the work camps right? That what Shiro said. Are these the people who rescued you?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “They kind of took me in. Did Shiro escape? Is he okay? Where is he?!”

"He's fine!" Pidge said. "He's the Paladin of the Black Lion. I didn't notice it when you guys left but he's really hot Matt."

"I told you!" He laughed. "So you're the Paladin of the Green Lion? Can I see it?"

“Sure,” Pidge said. “You can meet Hunk too.”

Hunk and the Green Lion landed in the clearing at the same time. Pidge watched her brother's face as he looked up at the massive battle ship. She could hear the whispers amongst the raiders, the awe. There was no second guessing that this was the Legendary Lion of Voltron, it was obvious, the aura. Something about the lions sung in the hearts of all who saw them. 

“So,” Pidge said, looking at Vera. “Believe me now?”

 

___

 

“I had given up on going home, but then Vera and the gang picked me up,” Matt said over a bowl of suspicious looking soup. Shadows danced across his face. His hair was longer, with snags and split ends. A scar crossed his cheek and Pidge could feel the difference between the brother she left on Earth and the brother she found on Renola. “I thought I was going to die in those camps, never seeing my family again. Then I was out and they asked me if I wanted to stay on, and I did. Never thought that all those fighting and shooting lessons would pay off so much. What happened while I was gone? How did you end up out here? ”

“They said it was pilot error, that the mission had crashed on Kerberos,” Pidge said. “You were officially declared dead, they had a funeral and everything, but I just, I knew? Mom said I was nuts, and I can't blame her, she had lost her son and her husband and her daughter was going on about conspiracy theories. It was, hard, I had never seen Mom so lost and broken. You know how our entire lives she had been such a pillar, so, certain? She'd stay in her room for hours, wouldn't eat, and she was so, so mad. At God, at me, at everyone. At the garrison. Yet, I knew. I just knew. I broke into the Garrison and found proof, they caught me and banned me, so I infiltrated it under a fake name as a cadet. Then Hunk, and a few of our friends found the Blue Lion and like I told Dad, one thing lead to another. We've been fighting the war and I never stopped looking.”

“What is it like at the front?” Vera asked. They sat in a circle around the fire, Vera, Matt, Pidge, Hunk, and Lotor. 

“Depends on where you're at,” Pidge said. “It's gone from just wrestling over planets to full battles in deep space, we've been slowly inching the lines forward.”

“Some planets are terrible,” Hunk said. “So entrenched, divided down the halfway point. We do the best we can but some places it can be impossible to kick the Galra out all the way. Some species are so used to being enslaved, they don't even know what it means to fight or be free.”

“We do what we can out here,” Vera said. “Disrupt supply lines, kick out miners, free slaves, keep the Galra from setting up camp. I never thought it'd be that helpful in the long run.”

“Are there other groups?” Pidge asked. “Like you?”

“Groups that ask questions before they shoot?” Lotor suggested.

“Sorry about Ragnok,” Vara said. “He keeps us safe but he is paranoid. There are many disparate rebel groups, raiders who have a thing against the Galra. Not many, we find it's better not to get too tied to them. It's dangerous. We hear things though.”

“So, it's not likely that we can join the front,” Matt said. 

“I'm not even asking that,” Pidge said. “I think where you're at is perfect. I just want to know if we can get you more organized. Send you some supplies. Get you in the loop. There's only one enemy here, and the more united we are in fighting it, the better we are.”

“The Galra depend on disunity,” Lotor said, as if musing to himself. “The more infighting, the better, we find the weak point, the resentful one, and then their price. Capitalize on weakness and fear, that is the Galra way. We have made it an art form. The closer tied your people are, the harder it is to divide and conquer.”

“Ironically,” Pidge said. “We think that's what's going to let us beat them. The royal family has fallen apart, the Prince has been banished, and Zarkon is dead. The war councils and the Commanders are all jostling for territory. Haggar seems to be in control for now but I don't think she'll bother too much unless it messes with her science projects.” 

“What is your story?” Vara asked, looking at Lotor. “You have a strange aura about you. I can feel that there is much below the surface of your soul.”

“I'm a noble with a bad daddy,” Lotor smirked. “I ran away from home, or I got kicked out, depends on how resentful I'm feeling. Now I have a vendetta.”

Vara hummed low in her throat. “People follow you for your vision, but you follow her because of her strength. You trust her and she trusts you, how refreshing.”

“Woah,” Hunk said. “You can tell that from just looking at people?”

“I can see the nature of individuals, yes,” Vara said. “Their emotions if you will. That is a tenant of my species. Body languages can speak volumes as well. What is your role, Katie?”

“Besides Paladin and overall badass?” She asked, Matt punched her in the arm. “Ow, I'm also the head of intelligence and recon for the alliance, I organize and keep track of all the chess pieces. I have feelers everywhere. Actually, I'm really excited to find you guys, we don't have a lot of ears this far out.”

“We'd be honored to help,” Vara said. “Ragnok too. He's a fanboy of the Alliance.”

“Hunk does autographs,” Pidge suggested.

“I do not,” Hunk said. “I mean, for kids, who ask, but Ragnok isn't cute enough!”

“If he asked I bet you would,” Pidge said. 

“I mean, yeah,” Hunk grunted.

A timer on Pidge's device went off, putting off an annoying, incessant beeping. She sighed and began to stand. “Excuse us. C'mon boys, it's time to face the boss.”

Hunk and Lotor followed her out into the woods, far enough from the camp that no one could eaves drop. They found the Green Lion hidden in the foliage and under the gentle glow of her green lights Pidge set up he the communication channel. Hunk hovered over her shoulder making commentary and Lotor leaned against the paw as she worked. 

“I have to admit,” Pidge said, turning on the hole projector. “I'm not excited for this.”

“You're more nervous then me,” Lotor said.

“Introducing you to my parents was easier then this,” Pidge grinned, she activated the communication device. It had taken a few hours of work to set up a channel that was secure for an extended communication and find a time everyone could agree on. Pidge heard that Shiro was still planet side on Contraxia, which was too bad, but that was the reality of it. While the call went through she fidgeted with anything she could occupy her hands with. It connected after a few minutes and showed Allura sitting in a chair in the dinning hall, her hands in her lap. She smilled.

“Pidge, Hunk,” Allura said. “How are you?”

“We're fine, Princess,” Hunk said. 

“We have good news, better news,” Pidge said. “And news that's going to sound like bad news but you'll eventually appreciate as good news. What do you want first?”

Allura paused, processing what Pidge was saying, and then said, “The bad news?”

“That's Prince Lotor,” Pidge said, stepping back so Allura could see Lotor in the shot. Lotor, who still leaned against the lion's paw, waved. 

“What?!” Allura said, standing from her chair, then remembering she was on video sat back down but instead pushed her face up to the camera. “Wha- How?! Pidge! He's dangerous!”

“Listen it's weird,” Hunk said, holding up his hands to calm her. “Here's the deal though, the Galra fired him, he's no longer Prince of the Empire.”

“I quit,” Lotor suggested from behind them. 

“He quit,” Pidge said, nudging Hunk with her elbow as thanks. “He helped me find my Dad, I mean, if you look at it a certain way. Allura! He's saved my life at least twice, and--”

“So he's just, with you?!” Allura asked, her fingernails gripped the arm rests. Her voice had raised up a couple pitches “Pidge, he's dangerous! We can't trust him! What if this is a trick?!”

“Princess Allura,” Lotor said, pushing off the paw and stepping between Hunk and Pidge to address her. Pidge's finger wound into the edge of her jacket. “In the past we've been dynamically opposed, an understatement, I understand. Talking to Pidge though has been, eye opening, and recent events have lead me to believe that we are better off working together, then apart. We both want unity for this galaxy, an end to the war, and now I see that the Galra is not the means for that. I've lost my inheritance to the throne, I've been betrayed by my commanders, and now I'm nothing but another man, seeking to put right what has been made wrong. ”

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Allura asked. She has settled a little. “How do I know that this isn't just another grab for power?”

This was the part that Pidge was frightened of. It wasn't that Allura would reject him. It was how Lotor answered that question, by which everything hung in the balance. He did not look at her but she studied the line of his profile, how his eyes focused on the screen. Just for a tremendous second, he paused, weighing his response. 

“Because what I've known to be power,” Lotor said. “Is a lie. Your Paladin, the smallest one, was capable of defeating me, my generals, and a Galra commander as if it was nothing. In Galra culture we submit to our betters knowing that by following them we are strong, and she is better.”

This took Allura back. She didn't answer, only searched Lotor's face. This had to be the first time she saw him face-to-face, Pidge realized. She wondered if Allura thought he looked like his father. Pidge herself couldn't even begin to process the answer.

“If you can't trust me,” Lotor continued. “Trust her, because my life is hers now.”

Allura's eyes slid over to Pidge and she lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

“So yeah,” Pidge said. “We're cool. Do you want the others news?”

“We'll discuss this more later,” Allura promised Pidge. “What else could there be?”

“Good news,” Pidge said. “I found my brother.”

“He's really cool!” Hunk said. “He's a mechanic and a biologist. I can appreciate that.”

“That's wonderful Pidge,” Allura said. “How?”

“He found us,” Pidge said. “Lotor's frigate got flagged by some rebels in the area and they shot us down. So we ended up confronting them planet side and turns out Matt was among them. That brings me to the even better news, we now have contact with a dedicated sect of rebel fighters on this side of the galaxy.”

“Interesting,” Allura said. “What have they been doing out there?”

“Guerrilla warfare,” Hunk said. “Mostly keeping the Galra from getting their roots in. Kicking out explorers, blowing up stuff, freeing slaves. You know, the good fight.”

“Another thing you might want to consider,” Lotor said. “Haggar has assumed control over the empire. The War council and her mutinied against me. She's loosing touch, Princess, if there's a time to strike, it's now. The council has been bickering for years and many have suspected that the fracturing of the empire is coming, now it's a matter of who gets--”

“A slice of the pie!” Pidge said. 

“Or a slice of the pie,” Lotor repeated, much calmer. He paused. “What is pie?”

“It's a desert,” Hunk said. “A filling between two thin dough crusts and baked. Tasty. I can make you one when we get back to the castle.”

“I would appreciate that,” Lotor said. 

“Enough about deserts,” Allura said. “I'm not sure, Contraxia is our major focus right now.”

“We're three weeks from Contraxia, days from the Heart of the empire,” Pidge said. “Lotor mentioned to me that Haggar is the one thing stitching the Empire together. If we take her out, the whole thing might just topple like a jenga tower on a rickety table in California."

“I appreciate the thought,” Allura said. “Also, whatever that means. But I need you here.”  
“Haggar is my mother,” Lotor said, his voice cold. “I want her dead. Think in the long term Princess, I'm in no position to make requests but I'm begging you to let me have revenge. Even as a tactician I beg you. This is not a chance you should let pass.”

“He's right,” Pidge said. “When I had to fight Zethrid, I knew that there was only one way for me to win. Go for the head. Where the head goes, the body follows. In the course of that analogy, taking out the head will only help us win at Contraxia. Allura, we can root out the Galra one-by-one, turn their own games against them. You just have to let us do it.”

Allura sighed, breathing in deep through her nose. “I can see you're very, enthused about this. I put you in charge of intelligence Pidge because I trust your judgment. You've made mistakes before, and as have I, but we both decide to trust each other despite this. So, knowing this, I will trust you. I feel like this could be a mistake, but I have been wrong before. If you think this is the best course, I will not stop you. Whatever plan you come up with, you run by me though."

"Thank you, Princess," Pidge said. "I won't let you down."

"You'll be in my thoughts every moment you're gone," Allura said, she smiled. "And, Pidge?”

“Yes, ma'am?” Pidge asked. 

“Both eyes on Lotor,” Allura said. She looked at Lotor. “Lotor if you hurt, or betray my Paladins, even a single hair on their heads. I will take it upon myself to hunt you down and brutally end your pitiful existence. Are we clear?'

“I understand and would expect nothing less,” Lotor said. 

“Alright,” Pidge said. “I'm going to cut the feed before the Galra notice we're transmitting. It was a good talk Princess and thanks for understanding.”

“Be careful, Paladins,” Allura said. 

“We will,” Hunk promised.

Pidge cut the feed and Allura's face vanished as the holoprojector turned off. Pidge sat down in the grass and sighed, her arms draping over her knees. Her heart had been pounding against her chest, she had never been that nervous talking to Allura before. She raised her hand up to Lotor. He stared down at it. Pidge reached over, and took Lotor's hand and pressed his palm to hers. 

“It's called a high-five,” Pidge said, “Hunk, demonstrate.”

Pidge held her palm out to Hunk and he smacked it satisfactorily. 

“You humans are so strange,” Lotor said. “Hmm, that went better then I thought it would.”

“After all these years, she trusts us," Hunk said, he reached down and helped Pidge to her feet. "That's how it works in a team. You have to trust the other person's judgement, and have faith in them."

"If that was in person that would've gone differently,” Pidge said. “So, I guess from here we just start planning. Are you sure you're okay with killing your mother.”

“My dear,” Lotor said. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

They walked back to the fire and before they entered the circle, Hunk grabbed Pidge's arm. He pulled her back and she nodded to Lotor to continue on. He went and sat down. Pidge leaned against a tree as Hunk put his back to the group.

“I want you to know,” he said. “That I trust Lotor.”

Pidge couldn't formulate a response.

“I get it,” Hunk said. “Crazy. But did you hear what he said to you, and about Haggar being his mom? He's in on this hundred-percent. I can tell you have doubts, you talk big, but you're worried. Don't be. He's our new best friend as far as I'm concerned.”

Pidge sighed, melting against the tree like it was a swooning couch and she was a perturbed 19th century victorian lady. “Thanks, I was starting to think I was nuts. If Hunk the paranoid can trust Lotor, I might manage, and I mean I did, it's just, I'm five steps ahead of everything. The possibility of this being a trap hasn't escaped me and of course Allura could always be right but, it's nice to have a second opinion.”

“I also noticed you two are getting along,” Hunk said, grinning slyly. “Really well.”

“I don't know what it is, Hunk,” Pidge said, crossing her arms. “I woke-up this morning in his lap and he's been flirting with me. I find it easy to talk to him, he's smart as I am. It's just that there's a war, we're in a weird position, he's emotionally unstable, and you know how I am. I break shit.”

“You don't break shit,” Hunk sighed. 

“I broke Lance.”

“You had a miscommunication,” Hunk said. “Lance had a crush on even before you two hooked-up. Listen, I'm not saying you should make moves on Lotor, in fact I would discourage that, but you can't handle it if you don't talk about it.”

“I need things from Lotor,” Pidge said. “I need his skill in combat, I need his experience with the Galra, I need his piloting ability. I can't mess this up but I also know that I can't mess him up. I don't think he's ever had a healthy relationship before, like, between two people. I don't want to be another one that hurts him, and that's a lot to put on me, because, I hurt people."

"You've always approached love differently from others being asexual and aromantic," Hunk said. "Shiro fixated on you unfairly and you cracked under the pressure. Keith misread your relationship. Lance, was Lance. If there's someone who could appreciate the way you approach a relationship though, it might just be Lotor."

"How do you do it?" Pidge asked, grinning. "How are you so stable?"

"First off," Hunk said, listing it on his fingers. "I communicate. Second off when I have hook-up sex I follow through. Third, I deal with my problems before shifting them on someone else. Fourth, I never have sex after a battle, miss passion."

"I hate you and how right you are," PIdge said. "Did you ever think that Prince Lotor would be a victim of abuse?"

“I suppose it's not something you think about,” Hunk said. “You know you can't be responsible for him though right?”

“It's my call,” Pidge said. “Allura's counting on me. I promised myself that when I found Matt and Dad, I'd devote everything to the war. I have and now I can't mess things up.”

“Hey,” Hunk said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It's not just you. It's you and me, and the entire Alliance, and your brother, and yes, even Lotor, working together. We'll get this done.”

Pidge threw her arms around Hunk's neck and he hugged her to him. She buried her nose in his neck and said, “I bet you miss Lance.”

“I always miss my idiot,” Hunk said. “I'm just glad I got to see my family. Don't try to do this on your own Pidge, per usual.”

“I promise I won't,” She said, letting him go. She looked between the trees at the fire, Lotor sat on one side, staring into the fire, the others talked and laughed. He was not interacting. She looked at Hunk. “You mind taking Lotor with you when we leave? I want him to make friends.”

“Are you serious?” Hunk asked

“Please,” Pidge said, giving him her best puppy dog eyes. She pressed her palms together in prayer. “I want to spend time with my brother, alone. You said you trusted him!”

“Pidge,” Hunk said. “I hate you.”

“You're my favorite brother,” Pidge said, punching his arm. 

“Funny," Hunk said. "Because I've heard you say that to Shiro, Keith, and Lance, before.”

"Add Lotor to that list."


	17. Third Eye

(She stands in the open field, the wind on her arms and the moon full and familiar over head. It casts it's glow over the shadows, but her eyes can't pierce the treeline in the distance. The wheat brushes against her hips. Pidge raises up from where she had lain and scans the horizon. The woman appears in the dark, her eyes glow yellow and silver hair gleams in the low light. 

Pidge's hands come up as the lightning strikes her arms, the pain is agonizing, ripping her apart, she cannot escape. Suddenly, the air echoes with a roar, so vivid and loud it echoes in Pidge's soul. The Green Lion lands in the field, throwing up dust and trampling down the wheat. She stands over Pidge and stares down Haggar until she vanishes into a cloud of dust.)

Pidge's eyes snapped open. She looked up at an unfamiliar sky, tiny stars that winked at her as she caught her breath. Her chest rose, sharp intake, and then compressed as she exhaled, slow and easy. She sat up and yellow eyes caught hers, reflecting the dying coals of the fire. Pidge froze in place before Lotor blinked, and the spell was broken.

Matt, beside her, shifted. They had fallen asleep holding hands, their foreheads pressed together as they talked and whispered. Catching up on all the stupid things they had done and learned. There was so many stories she had to share with him and so many he had shared with her. She had learned of his time in the work camps, his freedom, growing into a freedom fighter. From scared kid to soldier, both of their narratives it turned out. Her hand rested on Matt's shoulder for a second before she walked over to Lotor, stepping over Hunk to do it, and sat down beside him. 

“Bad dream?” He asked. He had propped himself up against one the logs. Pidge grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around her shoulders as she moved against his shoulder. His hand hovered off her for a second before he settled his palm against her shoulder.

“I think your mother is trying to kill me,” Pidge said.

Lotor stiffened beside her. “Did you dream about her?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, rubbing at her forehead. “She shot me with lightning but the Green Lion like, jumped in, and stopped her.”

“Astral projection is one of her abilities,” Lotor said. “She can use it to hunt down a person in their dreams and kill them from afar. It's taxing, so she does it rarely. She used to haunt my nightmares and nowadays, I don't know if it's her or not that I see.”

Pidge's heart still hammered against her chest and she moved so her ear rested against Lotor's chest. His beat in a calm, even cadence. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the coarseness of the weave and the warmth that he emanated. “I guess I won't be sleeping.”

“Short naps should be fine,” Lotor said. “But until she's dead, I would dissuade anything longer then an hour. We'll have to work fast. I think your connection to the lion will protect you for a time but she is clever, she'll find a way and we shouldn't give her time to do so. 

His hand tightened on her shoulder as if he wished that he himself could go into her nightmares and fight off the demons. 

“How does her magic work?” Pidge asked. “Could I learn it?”

“I don't know,” Lotor said. “You shouldn't think about that, it's dangerous, Katie.”

“If I don't understand it,” She said. “How can I beat it?”

A long moment passed between them. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Should Pidge run away from the things that scared her? No. No, it was the fear that pushed her forward. Things she can understand can be defeated, and if she can defeat it, it doesn't need to be feared. Then, why did he shy away?

“I was thinking,” she said. 

“Uh-oh,” Lotor grinned, rubbing his hand down her arm. 

“We don't need a full scale assault,” Pidge said. “Just a strike force. We need to get into the capital ship, assassinate Haggar, and get out.”

“That sounds easy saying it,” he said. “The capital is designed to stop that exact plan, however, there are loops holes. Chinks in the armor.”

“The fleets,” Pidge said. “They're on the flank. A direct attack is the last thing they'd imagine. We have a small force.”

“Do you think the rebels could handle a mission of that scope?” Lotor asked. 

“You saw what they did to the frigate,” Pidge said. “A fleet to hold off the Galra. I don't know if they'd be ready for a full scale battle but, I suppose, if they're familiar with the terrain, they could play some games. A distraction. A big 'look at me!' while we go in the back door. What about the Galra? There's got to be some of them that are looking to put a knife in Haggar's back beside just the Mamora.”

“Hmm,” Lotor hummed, looking up at the sky. “I can think of a few examples of what you're describing but I'll make no promises. I'll poke around, make some calls to old allies. I have a mentor in the capital who might be willing to help-- we''ll see.”

“If you can, do it,” she said. “We'll need all the help we can get it.”

They settled into silence, Lotor tapped his fingers down her arm and then moved his hand down to hers. He turned her palm up and tapped his fingers into the center of it before investigating her fingers. He ran his fingers over her callouses and interlaced their hands. It was as if he was just curious about her and wasn't even thinking about it.

“Lotor,” Pidge said. “I need to tell you, that I can't love you like you want.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, gentle, patient. To think that she had stitches in her side from where he cut her open. 

“I can't, do romance,” Pidge said. “It's not in my programming. I don't get it myself, but I'm not attracted to other people like other people are? I didn't want to lead you on.”

“I don't know much about these things,” Lotor said. “I do know though that right here I am absolutely content in a way I can't express. More then that, I do know that love takes many forms. Love for father. Love for mother or for friend. For brother. For lover. You've shown me that. Your greatest attribute is your love for yourself and others. Where we fall on that spectrum? I don't care. I just want you here.”

“I suppose,” Pidge said, "That works. I've had friends, and sexual partners, but it's always been on this singularity for me? I don't understand why people define romantic and sexual attraction so differently, I've never experienced. I know I don't want to be alone but I know I can never have the kind of relationship my parents have and for a lot of my life, I've been drawn between that. Because on Earth that's how it is. You find someone you love and you love them, but I don't love like that. So I don't know?"

“These things are complicated,” Lotor said. “I like knowing that you're just as lost as me.”

“We might really fuck this up,” Pidge said. “If I do, I want to retroactively say I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry,” Lotor said, his hand grazing down her side. “For all the ways I've hurt you. I meant what I said earlier.”

“That's no way to live Lotor,” Pidge said. "Living for me?

“It's where I am,” he said. “Maybe one day I'll hate you.”

“Again?”

“I never hated you,” he said, “And I can't imagine that I will. I know that as I grow, I will become more independent, I will understand these emotions better and I look forward to it. Right now? I'm just angry. I don't want to put you on a pedestal but I can't help but to feel you're the best thing in my life."

“That's okay," Pidge said. "You'll make friends and then I'll just be one of the best things in your life."

They talked until Lotor fell asleep. She looked up at him and noticed the quiteness that seemed to fall over him. Her hand came up and traced the line of his jaw, the sharp bone and relaxed muscle. She shifted so she could pull her device out of her pocket. She opened her code and worked until the sun blushed the sky shades of pink. She set a timer every hour so even when she drifted out, she never entered that deep sleep. Pidge had no confirmation if Lotor was right, but it felt right. So for now she would roll with it

Every time her eyes began to close, she could feel Haggar there, waiting like a wolf in the shadows. Watching. Patient. It was like a seed of fear and paranoia had been planted in Pidge's mind. The pain had been so real, her actual nerve endings fired up to respond to an unreal stimuli. Pidge needed more then just guess work as to how Haggar did it. She needed answers. Haggar had time and forever, Pidge would crack eventually. Never had the war been so personal.

Vara was the first awake, she roused quickly and began to roll up her matt. Pidge disentangled herself from Lotor and began to collect the things that were hers. Vara stood working and suddenly looked at Pidge. Pidge paused too, caught under the intensity of Vara's gaze. 

“Come with me,” Vara suggested.

Pidge followed Vara out into the woods, just into the line of trees. A layer of dew covered the ground and the roots. Mist had fallen over the valley and campsite, painting everything in a dark gray hue. 

“Someone is hunting you,” Vara said. 

“Haggar,” Pidge said. “In my dreams now, because that makes sense.”

“You worry too much about what 'makes sense',” Vara said. “You don't care about how things are.”

“I just don't understand this magic stuff,” Pidge said, looking back on the group and where Lotor still slept. "I'm Jewish. I'm not content with a utilitarian 'this is what it does', I want to know why, how.

“I can help,” Vara said. “Or, rather, I know someone who can help. Haggar won't give to you easily. I had –or have-- a mentor who lives in the Windrow System on Keplan 2. She's a recluse, a strange woman but she taught me everything I know and she is a powerful witch.”

“Other people have magic beside Haggar and the Druids?” Pidge asked. 

“Magic is a force of the universe,” Vara said. “They can hardly capitalize on it.”

“Lotor won't like that,” Pidge said to herself. 

“I know he's the Prince,” Vara said, Pidge glanced up at her. “Don't be threatened, Paladin. I can see his heart, he is true. He is merely frightened of you. He is frightened that you are more like Haggar then his mother.”

“Haggar is his mother,” Pidge said. “He used to believe that a woman named Honerva was his mother. Haggar is who Honerva became."

“Is she?” Vara asked. “Perhaps, Lotor always counted this Honerva as his true parent then the monster that created him. I am an old woman, I know that men love their mothers and love women like their mothers.”

“Honerva followed the wrong path,” Pidge said. “I admit, I thought about it once, that Haggar was like me. Young, dumb, curious, doing things for the greater good. I can't discount me making the same mistakes.”

“We both already know the answer,” Vara said. “You just have to believe it is the right one.”

“Can I count on your people's help?” Pidge asked. 

“Whatever you need is yours.”

“What about Ragnok?” Pidge asked. 

“I can guarantee that he will be thrilled with the proposition of getting to kill more Galra,” Vara said. She put her hand on Pidge's shoulder. “Do what you must do. I'll see that all the preparations are made.”

“I appreciate it,” Pidge said. 

They returned to the camp. Pidge ate breakfast with the Rebels and explained to them her plans. She had had plenty of time last night to put one together. Matt sat beside her and nudged her with his elbow anytime she got off track. She would never get over how great it was to have him there beside her. She addressed the primary group of officers, who would then relay the orders down the chain of command. They listened to her, nodding along with her points, asking questions. Pidge found herself channeling Allura, and it was easier then she thought it would be. 

“So, wait, while all that's happening,” Hunk said “What are you going to do?”

“I have an errand I need to run,” Pidge said, scraping the last of her nutrience paste off the plate and into her mouth. “I'll meet you planet side before we start the mission."

“What exactly is this errand?” Lotor asked. “And why are you doing it alone?”

“If I told you,” Pidge said. “You wouldn't like it. We need to find a way to stop Haggar and that's what I'm going to go do. My injuries mean I should avoid direct combat until I need to anyway. My ribs'll appreciate a couple days to heal." 

“I have never heard anything like that come out of your mouth in the history of ever,” Hunk said.

Pidge could feel Lotor's eyes on her. She didn't look at him but instead she stood. “I know I'm asking a lot out of everyone –and I guess this is the part where I give a rousing speech-- but I need you to trust me and to trust each other. If we accomplish this, we can change the course of the war, if not end it all together.”

“How are we supposed to trust the Galra?” Ragnok asked. 

“Don't,” Pidge said. “Lotor will have his own task to fulfill, completely away from yours. He'll be with Hunk and Matt anyway. Any funny business, he gets shot. Following that, keep an open mind, the Galra aren't a species of pure evil and our enemy isn't the species anyway. It's the empire. It's the institution that has kept us down. That's enslaved our families, killed millions, and destroyed lives. The Galra haven't done that. Zarkon's empire did, and we're not only going to get justice and revenge, but retribution ten fold so no one will ever follow in it's footsteps.”

“In another lifetime the Galra was the guardians of this galaxy," Lotor said. "Keeping peace. That's the Galra I believe in. The ones I have spent a life time studying. Zarkon spoke of the 'true Galra' but what he didn't realize was that he destroyed it's image. I'm going to take it back."

“So yeah, we'll take care of the Galra," PIdge said. "Alright, any questions? “No? Great. Let's get at it.”

Lotor found her at the feet of the Green Lion as she finished her pre-flight checks. He leaned against the paw as Pidge finished her work. Pidge stood, securing her rebreather around her throat. She had given Matt an extra long hug, shook hands with Hunk, and been patted enough times on the back by various aliens to bruise. Lotor had hung back, she hadn't thought of it.

“You know,” she said. “My armor was still on the frigate.”

“I know,” He said. “I suppose I owe you a new set. I have a feeling I know where you're going and what you're going to do. Katie, I didn't, suggest it, I told you what would happen if you follow this path.”

“When we're facing down Haggar,” Pidge said. “And it's going to be us, together, what's your plan? I can't walk in there blind.”

“It's not that,” he said, pushing off the paw. He walked over to her until they were only inches apart and Pidge had to crane her head up to see him. “I don't want this to destroy you, not like it destroyed her. It's a slippery slope, the farther down you slide, the harder it is to crawl back out.”

“Lotor,” Pidge said, catching his eyes. “Kiss me.” 

“I-” he began. 

“On the forehead,” she said. “Do it. Go ahead.”

Confusion painted his features but he still smoothed down her hair and leaned down to brush his lips against her forehead. His hand traced down her face and caressed her jaw. Pidge clasped her hand over his, feeling the small scars on his knuckles and the callouses on his palm.

“That's a promise kiss,” she said. “When I come back, I'm going to give it back to you.”

“I want more then a kiss on the forehead,” Lotor said, wrapped his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. 

“You'll get what I give you,” she smirked. “C'mon lover boy, I gotta go, it's a small window before the Galra patrols start blocking my FTL lane. I'll see you in a few days.”

They seperated and Pidge held out her fist. Lotor stared down at her hand and then covered her fist with his hand. He looked down at her to check if this was correct. 

“We'll work on it,” she said. 

Pidge left planet side first, setting course for the nav point that Vara gave her. Green could self-correct and fly enough once in FTL that Pidge could just sit back for the ride, working on more of her code. The planet that Vara had suggested was a two days trip away, towards the very edge of the Galaxy. Out there planets and systems were less in number, quieter, patrols were far and few in-between. 

She slept in the bay of the lion, wedged between ration boxes and using her jacket as a pillow. After several days of having people around her, Dad, Matt, Hunk, Lotor, even the generals, the chance to be alone was both welcome and dreaded. When she was tapping through a code and she had a random thought she had no on to tell it to but the empty hold. The sole conversationalist being the Lion's humming engine. 

The Windrow System was a binary star system with four planets. Keplan 2 sat in the golden ring for life and it's surface was hidden by heavy dark gray clouds that refused to be permeated by Pidge's feeble scans. There was, based on the gas mixture and the warm, almost a sweating sauna, that the surface temperature read as, likely life on the planet. Vara's coordinates checked for a relatively temperate zone. 

“Okay, girl,” Pidge said, grasping the control sticks. “Only one way to find out.”

Pidge took Green into the atmosphere, riding out the initial turbulence until they were skimming over the cloud cover. Blue sky stretched out over them and the suns were tiny dot in the sky, bright as they traveled East. Pidge looked out the windshield, frowning as she observed the heavy gray clouds that cracked with lightning. She mentally prepped herself and began the descent. 

Pidge's palms sweated on the control sticks as Green broke into the clouds, and the vapor whipped off the windshield. Lightning struck off the port side, illuminating the dark view purple and yellow. All Pidge had was her altitude sensor to tell her that she was descending as she pushed Green down, all other systems were wiped out as the magnetic field of the clouds screwed them to hell and back. Green showed no fear though, it was better to know what underneath the blanket then stand in fear of the shape.

Finally, after several minutes, they broke the bottom layer and emerged to the full view of the planet. Pidge gasped and leaned forward as she looked over the beautiful mountain ranges and thick jungles. Mist hovered over lakes that glimmered a fluorescent blue from bioluminescent algae, creating light on the dark planet surface. Safe under it's shell of clouds, life had thrived. 

She landed Green about eight klicks from nav point, in a safe grove by a cliff side. Pidge trampled through heavy growth as she pushed through the woods, following a path set by her device. It lead her out to the edge of a lake which surface was so pristine with the algae that it reflected the green mountain that rose above it. Pidge stood on the bank taking in the view and the small sounds of birds, insects, and the unknown faunas of the planet. 

She crossed a land bridge across the lake, formed by various stones and washed up sand. There it lead to a well trod trail up the mountain, stones were laid out as foot holds and vines provided places to grip. The trail wound around the mountain, way above the valley and the lake. Until the jungle trees began to thin out and turned to golden grass with tiny bioluminescent seeds that waved in the wind. 

There was small signs of ancient civilizations. Little rocks built in piles as markers, with writing so old that even if Pidge could translate it, there was enough remnant to do so. She passed the ruins of stone houses. Tiny statues of little Gods and Goddesses. Some parts of the trail had stairs cut into the rock. People used to be here, living here, thriving, now the planet reclaimed what had been lost. In the end, nature always wins.

At the summit of the mountain, the trail lead to the foot of a temple. Around three hundred feet of stairs lead up to the stone temple, which walls fell in and vines wound in, cracking the rock. Pidge climbed it, her sore thighs protesting the last few strides. She walked into the dark temple, the ceiling having fallen in and thin light filtering in. 

A statue stood center stage in the back. It was a female alien with three sets of horns and no nose. She held a sword in one hand that she lifted to the heavens, and a shield on the other arm. She was draped in robes and swaths of fabric, each fold carved so delicately into the white rock, it could've been real fabric. Pidge looked up at her and her fingers tingled. It was as if at any moment the statue could come alive and enter into combat to defend it's protectorate. The planet, her people, her temple.

Sitting at the foot of the statue, amongst the vines, was the statue, taken flesh. An alien of the same species, her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap, sat serene, just as unmoving. She had only one set of horns but they curled back from her forehead, almost twice as long, gnarled and old. She wore a green robe around her shoulders and her hair was braided into dozens of locks, so long it reached the floor where she sat. 

Pidge, aware that she was treading on sacred ground, walked into the temple with small, light steps. Taking in the sights of the ancient worship place, the center and heart of a community. This mountain used to have veins of blood but the channels were long dry. 

“So,” Pidge said, stopping ten feet from the alien. “Do I talk first? You talk first?”

“You spoke first,” the alien said without opening her eyes or even moving any muscle but the ones around her lips. “It's been decided.”

“Alright,” Pidge said, scratching at the back of her head. “Sounds square.”

“The God Killer,” The alien said, her eyes finally opening. Her sclera were black and her pupils tiny dots of yellow in the center. Pidge couldn't tell if she had pupils or not Pidge was too far away to see, but she didn't track Pidge's movements. “The one who watches over us.”

“The statue?” Pidge asked, pointing up.

“Ashitavianaiq,” The alien said. “A girl made woman, who forged a sword of light, and killed a God of Evil and Darkness. That was the story of the people who lived here. The small and weak fighting against the impossible odds. Can you identify with that story, Katie Holt?”

“So you know who I am,” Pidge said. “I feel a little, uh, flat footed, I have no idea who you are.”

“The remnant of people long forgotten,” The alien said, standing. “The preserver of an ancient line of magic, the sole survivor of a tragedy. You know, some dramatic shit like that, my life would make a great play now that I think about it. A musical maybe? You can call me Okau.”

“Okay,” Pidge said.

“Okau.”

“Yes.”

“You want to learn the secret of magic?” Okau asked. 

“That's why I came here,” Pidge said. 

“Great,” Okau said. “We'll start now.”


	18. Major Tom

Lotor, the tallest in the group, braced his hand against the ceiling and crouched to avoid hitting it again. The sanitation chamber of the base clicked twice, beamed them with the holographic representation of the anti-bacterial field, and then the door opened. The ceiling was still below eye level.

Lotor sighed.

“Okay,” Hunk said pulling up the map on his gauntlet. “I think I hacked in right, these tunnels are an ancient maze.”

“Is there a wrong map?” Matt asked, leaning over Hunk's shoulder to see. 

“Unless they planted incorrect maps in easy to find networks,” Lotor said. “Intended to confuse us and to lead us into wandering these catacombs until we starve to death and die of exposure due to the high radiation produced from this planet's sun, that is still dangerous even a mile underground?”

Matt and Hunk stared at him for a moment.

“Okay,” Hunk said, looking back at the map, a bead of sweat ran down his temple. “I'm not as good as this as Pidge—Katie?”

“She's never cared which one you use,” Matt said. “I've only called her Katie when I'm mad at her.”

“Man,” Hunk said. “I can't believe Pidge went to go train with Yoda while we have to go break into this stupid base.”

“I can't believe we're taking orders from my sister,” Matt said as they started following the map despite the obvious. “I can't believe my sister is officially cooler then me.”

“Now that's not true,” Hunk said. “Turn left here. Just because she's a Paladin doesn't mean she's-- I mean she just flies an ancient magic cat robot and leads a galactic spy agency-- Yeah, she's cooler then you.” 

“I have a stick,” Matt said, looking at his staff. "I made this stick you know."

“Hey,” Hunk said. “Put a taser on the end of that sucker, and it'd be way cool.”

“A spear would with a pallaxium edge,” Lotor said thoughtfully. “Would allow it to cut through Galra armor and the range of a pole arm would give a respectable advantage over most enemies.”

Matt and Hunk stared at him again. 

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked. 

“No, no,” Hunk said. “That just, you know, you're an evil prince, you've tried to kill me... you talking about how to kill people is a little, chilling?”

“Hmm,” he grunted. “You're still uncomfortable with me? Matt, I noticed that you look strangely like Katie, do all human siblings resemble each other so much?”

“No,” Hunk snorted.

“No,” Matt said. “I just think that that Mom had a mold when she made me, and was too lazy to make a new one for Katie. From the ages of four to thirteen we could effectively pretend to be each other. To the point that Katie used to attend my classes in elementary school because she was bored in hers.”

“What happened at thirteen?” Lotor asked.

“Puberty,” Matt hissed. Lotor's translator glitched when he said it and gave him an inadequate explanation. 

Hunk shuddered. 

Another weird Earth thing, Lotor assumed.

“Hold it,” Hunk said, stopping them under an access hatch. “I think that might lead up into the base.”

"You think?" Matt asked. 

Lotor crouched and ran his fingers alone the edge of the hatch. He rapped his knuckles against the hatch, it was sealed but the upside was hollow. Lotor looked down at Hunk, “Are you sure this is the right hatch? If it leads outside--”

“We'll be extra crispy,” Hunk finished. “I'm as sure as I can be.”

“Alright,” Lotor said, pulling his knife from it's sheath. 

The knife and the pistol on his hip was a helpful gift from the rebels when he explained that his sword had been shattered by Katie. It was made of the very pallaxium that Lotor had mentioned to Matt and it cut easily through the metal locks around the hatch. Lotor shoved against the hatch and it fell to the ground with a 'whump'. He poked his head through the hatch and into the dark of a hallway. Lotor pulled himself through and then held out a hand for Matt

Matt hesitated, and then took it. Lotor pulled Matt up by the arm easily. Matt caught his arm around the edge and pulled himself through the rest of the way. Hunk looked up at him. 

“I don't think I'll fit,” Hunk said. “You'll have to go on without me.”

“You'll fit,” Matt reassured him. “Just suck it up man. Suck it in?”

“Stop messing around,” Lotor warned. “We need to work fast.”

Hunk did fit through the hatch, although he had to squirm a little to get the widest part of his girth through. Lotor drew his pistol as Matt helped Hunk the rest of the way through and cleared the hallway they had entered in. The base was nothing but a checkpoint for frigates, carriers, and dreadnoughts to dock, refuel, and for the command to track their cargo. Lotor knew that on the opposite was a residential district where the soldiers did the same for the bellies.

Matt took point again, leading them down the halls by the map. Matt proved as skillful at staying hidden as his sister, easily stopping them to let patrols pass by, the sentry's feet thumping against the metal floor of the base, or speeding up their pace to avoid being caught. 

“Wait,” Matt said, stopping them in a hallway. “The next level has surveillance and I don't think I can Pidge's code is going to hack something that level.”

“The maintenance corridor will run behind it,” Lotor said, pointing at a thin white line running beside the hallway. “The access port is behind us, but not far.”

“It does lead to the CC,” Matt said, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “But I guarantee neither of us will fit in there.”

“Then Matt can go,” Lotor said. 

“I'm no sure I can--” Matt began, eyes shifting down. 

“What's the problem?” Lotor demanded.

“I've never exactly infiltrated a galra base before,” Matt said, rolling his eyes. 

“First time for everything,” Lotor replied. “Go to the CC and use the program that Katie gave us to retrieve the ship ID's and docking plans. Hunk and I will distract them.”

“You'll be fine,” Hunk said, putting his hand on Matt's shoulder. “We got your back.”

“Okay,” Matt said. “Let's do this then.”

Matt backed away from them and then turned to run back down the hall. Hunk pulled up the map on his gauntlet and summoned his bayard to his hands. He looked at Lotor for a moment, a sheer moment of scrutiny that Lotor allowed himself to be subjected to. If Hunk hadn't pulled back at that moment, or even had reservations about presenting his back to his enemy, Lotor would've been concerned. To be as open as he could be in his intentions was the only way Lotor or Hunk, could survive this next encounter.

“We can head towards the base's shield ray,” Lotor said, checking the heat sink of his pistol. “Act as if we're going to shut it down. That'll panic them.”

Hunk lead them down the hallway and no sooner had they made the next turn did alarms start going off in the base. Red lights flashed overhead and the noise was almost deafening as Hunk lead a fast jog down the corridors. Lotor saw the movement, coming down an adjacent hall, he dropped to a knee and rolled out of the way of a hail of fire. Hunk stood ground, pointed his bayard down the hall, and opened fire.

Waist high panels activated out of the hallway's floor providing for the sentries that dove for cover. Any sentry that didn't was torn apart by the hail of fire that erupted from Hunk's bayard. Lotor ducked down that hallway, going low and keeping to the side wall before he jumped over a panel to stab a sentry in the face plate. Before the sentry on the opposite side could shoot him he shot it in the face and then pushed himself over the next panel before they could put holes in him.

Lotor lifted his hand over the panel and fired blindly over it to clear his path before jumping it. Lotor caught the sentry around the neck, shot it in the back and used it as a shield as he moved down the hall, firing accurately into the platoon, throwing them out of cover and into the barrage from Hunk's bayard. He placed a bullet in the last downed sentry's head and was joined by Hunk at the end of the hallway.

They continued to push through the base, finding a pattern in their fight styles. Hunk was as steady as Zethrid, and yet far more calm, despite his usual aura of nervousness. They encountered huge resistance at the entrance to the generator room, an entire platoon of sentry's and soldiers encamped to defend the shield. 

Matt's voice crackled in over the comms, “I got the data, I don't think they saw me. I'm still in the vents but it looks like they're sending a second platoon to your location. They also know that the Yellow Lion is here.”

“Ah, crap,” Hunk said. 

“Did you know they had AA guns on this base?” Matt asked. 

“Well,” Lotor said, swinging low behind a wall. “It would make sense, given the nature of the base being a checkpoint, for it to be able to shoot down rogue ships. The diversion let them know we're here, but leaving still won't be a problem. I'll take care of it."

“They'll start checking the maintenance corridors soon,” Hunk shouted over the fray. “Matt'll need help!”

“Alright,” Lotor said, his voice low. “Here's what we're going to do. Hunk you go reconvene with Matt and go to the Yellow lion. I'll handle the AA guns.”

Hunk looked across the hall at him and once again Lotor had the sense of being analyzed. Lotor calmly met his gaze, and the moment lasted only half-a-second. Hunk nodded. 

Hunk went one way and Lotor the other, completely skipping the carefully laid defense of the base commander in favor of a path of less resistance. Lotor ran down the halls, following the map towards the dock. By now the soldiers on leave in the second part of the base must've been kicked in the pants enough to return to the base and help catch the intruders.

Lotor pushed past them, putting bullets in armor weak points he knew by instinct and moving faster then they could shoot him. These were gifts, he realized. His knowledge, memorized to create efficiency in the Empire and his superior strength, compared to the soldiers he fought. If he wanted this gift, he didn't know, but he had it, so he used it.

On the dock he ducked behind a stand of crates as the returning fire from the opposition turned hot. Lotor crouched and inched his way to the other end of the crates, pistol in hand. They had tied themselves together, laying down an even fire while a handful of them advanced on his position. If he had any weapon stronger then just a hand gun he wouldn't be so worried about this. 

Lotor looked up at the crates, pushed just ten feet off the wall. He stood and pressed his back to the wall, prepared himself and then jumped. Lotor foot scraped against the smooth surface of the crate as his hand reached out to latch onto the edge of the top. He pulled himself up with ease. He stayed low as he sprinted the length of the top of the crates and then leapt, throwing himself into the midst of the fire.

A laser screamed past Lotor's arm, struck it and changed his trajectory so much that he had to roll to stick his landing. He pushed himself to his feet, pistol up, knife in hand, and he put a bullet in a face plate, then the chest armor of a soldier. Lotor sprinted behind the ships, vanishing into the shadows with long strides, clutching at his arm that ached with the pain from the shot. He ran along rows of frigates, chased by the soldiers and sentries that organized quickly to begin to systematically weed him out. 

When he passed a row, he could see a soldier moving parallel to him, they were behind him, but not ahead of him, as he worked his way down the bay. Protocol stated that the frigates and fighters were kept in different parts of the bay. Landed ships are refueled in order of their arrival, with the oldest arrivals, at the far end of the bay.

He jumped onto the wing of a fighter. Lotor used his gauntlet to run an override code on the ship's AI and the hatch popped open for him obediently. He slung himself into the fighter, closed the hatch, and stared the engines. It was a standard issue Galra fighter and not nearly as fancy as his. Still, Lotor had been trained to fly on this model. All he had to do was knock off some rust. 

Lotor punched the primary weapon, firing off the powerful gun which struck into the fueled and un-fueled ships. Without activated particle barriers, the lasers left dents in the frigates armors and destroyed the fighters. An accurate shot into a fuel container, and the ships went up in flames. The take-off was a unique challenge. 

To avoid the line of fire covering the open bay doors Lotor had to delicately and carefully activate the bottom thrusters of the fighter, hovering it into the air, but not so high that it hit the tall ceiling. With a skilled hand Lotor thrusted the control stick forward and the fighter shot out of the bay, into the dome shield.

Through the blue barrier the red sky appeared a deep, violent purple that shone into the dark cock pit. Lotor stayed low, barely a half-klick off the ground, skimming around the tall spires of the base. Approaching the first AA gun from the side prevented the upward fixed cannon from catching him when he blasted it, destroying the weapon. Lotor, now building up speed, shot along the edge of the dome, destroying each of the AA guns before exiting the barrier. 

Lotor remained low over the landscape, noting the Yellow Lion taking off and then exiting the same way the Lion did did. He then angled the fighter up, and out of the atmosphere. He grinned to himself as he set the nav points that Acxa sent him. 

“Matt got the data,” Hunk said over the comm. “So, we're square? Right? Lotor uh, where are you going?”

“I have to run an errand,” Lotor said. “I'll meet you at the rendezvous point, I'll give you my navs, if you're worried about my loyalty and the comm'll be open as well.”

“What are you doing?” Hunk demanded.

“What Pidge told me to do,” Lotor said. “I'll be back soon."


	19. The Waves

(The Battle of Garenia. It took them four days to breach the blockade around the planet and send the supplies to the grounded refugees and rebels. Four days where Pidge netted a total of ten hours of sleep, stringing her body out with twenty minute cat naps during the quieter moments. They hit ground at the planet's dawn, the sky blazing red with airborne chemicals and fire.   
She stood on the planet's surface, blasted black from artillery that screamed overhead, pressed into a trench. Here companions were rebels with dirtied and bloodied faces and wide eyes. They were witnessing the whole destruction of a once beautiful planet. Hitting ground to organize their desperate forces was both a mistake and a necessity, a necessary mistake.   
Pidge's hand rested on her broken arm, the bone chipped above the elbow and roaring with pain. Death hid in the shadows, it wrestled for domination with the soldiers, and in her mind, it was the blockade that kept her from solving a problem she couldn't crack. The artillery blast hit twenty meters from her, it burned off layers of her skin, cracked apart bones, and her lungs struggled, flailed for air.  
Someone knelt by her poked her in the face, twice, three times...)

Pidge snatched Okau's hand. A layer of cold sweat coated Pidge's back and her heart pounded against her chest. Pidge's eyes darted the room and she relocated herself in time-and-place. They were not on Garenia. Okau crouched on her heels over Pidge, staring down at her curiously. Pidge released her hand.

“Was that Haggar?!” Pidge demanded.

“Creative,” Okau said. “Bypassing the Green Lion by appealing to your psyche, psyche, that's a nice word.”

“Are you,” Pidge began, her eyebrows knitting. Okau had taken all her tech from her, including the small translator implanted in Pidge's ears. “Speaking English?!”

“My magic allows me into the hearts and minds of others,” Okau said, standing. “Language comes naturally after that. I've been practicing, how's my accent?”

“It's southern,” she frowned. “Do I sound that southern?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Ye-no,” Pidge said, she stood. “How long was I asleep?”

“You passed out after dinner,” Okau said, she counted on her fingers. “So, an hour.”

“And you let me?” Pidge asked. “Haggar's trying to fucking murder me in my sleep and you're letting me doze?”

“Well, it took her all night to get to the conclusion about how to do it,” Okau said. “So I don't see the problem.”

“You also said that we're starting our training 'immediately',” PIdge said. “We have yet to start.”

“Then we'll do that now,” Okau said. “Run to the bottom of the mountain with that bucket and bring up some water.”

Okau pointed at a bucket sitting in the corner of the temple. Pidge had spent most of her life in some form of training. First various MMA instructors who yelled at her and patted her back when she cried and had some grand point to their weird drills. Then to Shiro and Keith who also liked to yell and pat her back when she cried after they beat the crap out of her. She had seen many martial arts movies. Pidge knew the stick, there was a lesson to everything and obedience and the submission was the most efficient way to learn. She had to be compliant to be shaped into what Okau wanted. 

Pidge looked at Okau. She looked at the bucket. Pidge swallowed her pride, picked up the bucket and left the temple. 

“If you're not fast enough,” Okau yelled after her. “I'll make you do it again!”

If Pidge hated walking up the mountain, she especially hated running down the mountain. The bucket hit her leg, her legs still hurt from her hike yesterday and the mist that hung over the mountain made the air so thick she figured she could just drink some of that instead of the lake water. Her breath came in hard pants by the time she reached the bottom.

Pidge rested her hands against her knees and then scooped water into the bucket. While she knelt and filled the bucket, her eyes suddenly drifted up. The mist hung over the lake in clouds, drifting over the crystal like water which glowed blue with the algae. From the mist appeared a dark shadow that glided over the water. It vanished under the waves and then erupted again twenty feet past.

It was a huge white serpent like creature with scales glinted in the light as it flew through the air after breaching. It captured a bird flying overhead in it's mouth of sharp teeth and then crashed back into the water. The surface remained placid but the ripples from the serpent still reached her at the shore. It didn't emerge again. 

She stood and backed away from the water's edge. 

If Pidge hated running down the mountain, she certainly hated running up the mountain. Keeping her pace was almost impossible on some of the inclines as her feet struggled to find holds and strong foundation that didn't slip with the morning dew and the dark. Still, she pushed herself forward, struggling not to slosh the water that now weighed down her arms, making those ache too. 

When Pidge reached the temple she placed the bucket down at the entrance, and then sat down to catch her breath. Okau once again was meditating at the foot of the statue. She opened her eyes, stood, and glided over to Pidge. Okau put her foot on the edge of the bucket and then then kicked the it over.

“Seriously?” Pidge asked.

“Come with me,” Okau said. 

Okau walked outside the temple and Pidge sighed, rubbed her hands down her thighs, then pushed herself to her feet. She followed Okau halfway down the steps and then along a footpath at a landing. They pushed through low hanging branches and vines, the footpath marked out by small stones set at intervals. They emerged from the thicket of trees to a clearing set along the side of the temple. 

Stone set into the ground spiraled out towards them, creating a flat training yard. Okau instructed Pidge to stand in the center of the circle. 

“A wide stance,” Okau ordered, Pidge adjusted her feet accordingly. “Place your hands at your stomach like this.” Okau laid her palms at her belly button and Pidge mimicked her. “Good, now don't move until I return or else I'll make you run to the bottom of the mountain again.”

Okau patted Pidge on the shoulder and left the way she came. Pidge, at least glad that she didn't have to do anymore running, thought that this would be easy at first. The sounds of the forest filled her senses now that she had no one to focus on, no tech, no one to bother her, Bird cries, some she came to recognize and find the pattern of. Insect screams. The push of the wind on her hair and in the leaves. 

Pidge rolled her shoulders back, feeling how the blood flowed to her feet. The small of her back, where she had fallen asleep awkwardly, tingled. Her eyes darted around, trying to find something to occupy herself. She started to count the stones in the spiral. When that proved to be inefficient she attempted to find a mathematical equation that would accurately tell her how many stones there were. 

Each stone was about six-by-three inches. They flowed out in layers. If she could--

Pidge popped her thumbs, sweat beaded on her forehead and she rubbed her face against her jacket sleeve to wipe it off. She should've taken her jacket off. It was a sauna.

Her leg itched. 

“Okau!” Pidge shouted over her shoulder. “How long do I have to stand like this?!”

No response.

“Okay,” Pidge said. “Clearly I need to do something. What would Yoda do in this situation?

Pidge racked her brain through some Star Wars quotes and then shouted very loudly into the forest, “I am one with the force! And the force is one with me!”  
“I am one with the force,” she said, bending her knees a little bit. She repeated it in a funny voice, “The force is one with me.”

She said it again, amusing herself, and then she said it again, seriously. She repeated it serious. Then she closed her eyes and with the utmost seriousness, “I am one with the force. And the force is one with me.”

She cracked-up a little.

Pidge kept on saying it, her voice going just below her breath. A small mantra for herself as she evened out her breathing, not quite conscious of what she was doing. Her body and mind were tired so she let it drift, the words providing a comfy hammock for her to rest on while she let all these things pass her by. The dream from last night bumped into her, all the pain, anger, realness, and terribleness of the battle. It swelled up rage, and fear, and confusion in her, but somehow she let out a shuddered breath and that floated on by too. 

Without thinking she released her hands and they fell to her side. Her stomach fell and rose like the ocean, pushing her lungs. Pidge sat down and crossed her legs underneath her. She adjusted and fidgeted until she was comfortable on the stone. For the first time, in what felt like years, Pidge slowed down. She paid attention to all things that had been put on the back burner, compartmentalized, packed-up, and put in a box. Just merely in the space of this empty courtyard.

Mom didn't normally listen to the news. Pidge was in bed, eleven PM on a school night and she heard the phone ring. Her eyes were open, staring into the dark of her room as she heard her mother talking on the phone, the crack in her voice, the confirmation. Then the TV was turned on and on someone else's will Katie slid out of bed. While her hands gripped the banister and she watched the news broadcast, that was the moment it started. It was a sprint to the finish line and she had not stopped since. 

“I found them though!” Pidge shouted, squeezing her eyes shut, tears springing at the corners. “It's okay!”

Myko's hands on her hips. Acxa's eyes searing holes. Screaming bullets. Explosions. Almost lost friends. People who died and she couldn't save. The red blood scarring her hands. Nights of sleep lost. Haggar camping in the corner of her mind. Fear of failure. Hatred. Anger. It was all like a stone at the bottom of her heart, dragging her down. 

She took another shuddered breath. She let it. She let it drag her down, pulling her into the pit of pain and misery, and then, just sat there, sobbing, and letting herself be as miserable and depressed in a way she had never been before. 

There was only so much time that a person could spend weeping. Eventually the tears dried, leaving trails of salt down her cheeks. It was a spring wind, fresh and cool, a release she didn't know she needed. Pidge leaned back onto the stones, spreading her legs and hands out so she could stare up at the clouds above. She hadn't noticed how they moved, pushed by powerful upper atmosphere winds, like the deep gray and blue colors of a water color.

“It's really amazing, what a person does if you leave them alone with their thoughts for a couple hours.”

Pidge's eyes snapped open and she lifted her head to see Okau standing a few feet back. Pidge sat-up. “How long was I here?”

“Two hours,” Okau said. 

“Felt longer then that,” Pidge said. “Well, I didn't follow your directions. I moved.”

“You did exactly what I told you to do,” Okau said. “I said don't move. I meant your position in space, not your position in body. I just wanted to give you some space to work things out. What did you work out?”

“I feel,” Pidge began, slinging her arm over her leg. “I spent so long chasing after Matt and Dad , that, when I found them, I don't know what I should do. It's like, I've solved a problem and I'm staring at the solved equation and I-- I'm so grateful and I can't even believe that I know where they are, and that they're safe and alive but I still...”

“Finding Matt and Sam was not your destiny,” Okau said, she reached down a hand and pulled Pidge to her feet. She turned towards the woods and led Pidge down the side of the temple. “Nor is it defeating the Galra, or winning this war. No one's destiny lies in a single event, but only in the ultimate fulfillment of the story of our life. It is the big picture.”

“So, is destiny like,” Pidge began, “Is it a free will a thing?”

“Time is but a concept of the mind,” Okau said, Pidge watched her back as they walked down the path beside the temple, leading down and behind it. “All things are, to be, and was, our choices form the fabric of a vast universe and reality, a tapestry of space-time, woven by the conscious and power of life.”

Pidge had no response.

“This is magic,” Okau said. “A tapping into the strings that hold together that tapestry.”

“So, the force?” Pidge asked. 

Okau laughed. “The force!”  
“Quintessence is the thread of life,” Okau said. “Honerva found it in the line between our tapestry and the next.”

“So,” Pidge said. “All Haggar and the druids are doing, is just sewing stuff in the wrong place.”

“It's science,” Okau said. “As you would call it but the line between science and magic is as thin as gossamer. Haggar is only using the very nature of the universe to her advantage, she has tapped into the depth of reality itself and has had 10,000 years to master it.”

“You're stronger then her?” Pidge asked. “Right?”

“Oh, no,” Okau said. “It took some concentration just to keep her diverted while you meditated. You really need to avoid any sleeping because she is out to get you.”

“Comforting,” Pidge muttered. “I guess, in the next twelve or so hours you couldn't teach me some ancient trick that can help me kill her? Is she allergic to iron or copper maybe?”

“Everything you need to stop her,” Okau said. “You already have. There is one more thing I must show you.”

Behind the temple, Okau led Pidge down into a trench to where a thin creek babble it's way down the mountain. The creek pooled and welled, the water clear of algae, since the air was too cold up here for it to survive. Okau knelt beside the creek and dipped her hand into the water. She then lifted it and the water clung around her hand like a glove, churning along it's surface, pulled from the depth of the creek. 

“This is magic,” Okau said. “The Olkari use it to manipulate metal and plant life. You're already familiar with it through the bond with your lion. Your quintessence is permanently tied to the Green Lion, and to the other four Paladins. Creating something more powerful then either one of you combined. You are very familiar with this.”

“So,” Pidge said, also crouching beside the creek. “Can I learn that?”

“You don't want to,” Okau said, looking at her hand. “Some species have it come naturally to them, the Alteans, the Olkari, and others, it is forced on, the Druids. A human could only learn magic through poisoned quintessence, and that, would destroy your soul.”

“Why can't Lotor use magic then?” Pidge asked.   
“Seven times Haggar attempted to create a child,” Okau said, looking at Pidge. “That would be capable of magic, the first six died. Some died in the process of creation, some toddled into childhood and met grisly ends under Haggar's severe torture and experiments. Somehow, Lotor hung on, but he was still a failure. It was for the best, the magic of Haggar would've destroyed him like it destroyed her too. I've spent many years watching that boy grow from child-to-man, he always had such vivid dreams. He's a tenacious sort."  
Okau released the magic around her hand and the water fell back into the creek. She then continued up stream, picking her way around patches of mud and slippery roots. Pidge followed a few feet behind. 

“Humanity is unique,” Okau said. “In that it has no natural connection to magic, just a pure, simple soul, difficult to corrupt or break. That is why the Lion's chose five humans from Earth, a blank canvas is best to paint on.”

“So I can't learn magic,” Pidge said. “That sucks.”

“You have another advantage,” Okau said. “Look here.”

Okau pushed aside a branch and revealed to Pidge their destination. It was a natural fount, water bubbled from the rock, and was pushed down small pools to where it welled into a small pool that swirled, the water like crystal, revealing the multi-colored pebble bottom, a foot deep. Carved rocks lined around the pool, and at the base of the waterfall was a tiny statue of ashita, kneeling in humility to the water.

Okau sat at the edge of the water and indicated for Pidge to sit opposite of her. Pidge sat, folding her legs underneath her, her hands coming to rest on her knees. 

“Nice ambiance we got here,” Pidge said. “Is that to help with the personal revelations?”

“Personal revelations,” Okau said. “Are always nicer with a nice ambiance. We're not animals out here.”

“So what's my advantage?” Pidge asked.

“Do you believe in absolute truth?” Okau asked.

“To say that there is no absolute truth,” Pidge said. “Is a paradox. If there is no absolute truth, then that is an absolute truth, which would make the statement false. So I have to believe in absolute truth, from a philosophical and logical standpoint.”

“Good answer,” Okau said. “Is that perhaps what you search for? Absolute truth? Some people are satisfied with the answer given to them, and some people are satisfied with no answer, they live their lives content. This is not wrong, in fact, those people are very happy and very productive. People like us though must find the answer for themselves. To put it lightly we have to pee on the electric fence to make sure the sign is correct.”

“That sounds about right,” Pidge said, thinking of various dumb actions she had taken over the years. “That's just experimental process though. Just because a result occurred once doesn't mean it'll occur again. Just because a result is unexpected, doesn't mean it's untrue.”

“So when you first encountered magic,” Okau said. “What did you think?”

“I was, confused,” Pidge said. “I guess, when I first saw Voltron, it was like, my brain didn't reject it at all. It was just another logical step.”

“Everything about magic and it's evolution,” Okau said. “Is a logical step. All societies develop a sense of their arcane, whether or not it is in reach. They understand the very nature of the universe. What do you think of the divine?”

“God is real,” Pidge said. “And I owe him favors I can never repay.”

“Is God illogical?”

“No,” Pidge said. “I don't think anyone can disprove or prove divinity and some might argue intelligent design, although that's a little to simple for me. I don't think proving God is important, so much as it's nature. Everyone has a God, or Gods, or god killers. I accept one nature according to what is logical to me.”

“Excellent,” Okau said. “Now, look at the water. See how it flows to the lowest point, it is controlled only by gravity. The water is forced through pressure out of the Earth and into the pond, then down the stream to the lakes, there it is carried up by a bucket only to be spilled and seep back into the ground. If magic is the water then Haggar is gravity, and you are the bucket.”

“Cool,” Pidge said. “What the heck does that mean?”

“It means that you need to chew on it for a little bit longer,” Okau smirked. “That's what I'll leave you with. With the limited time we have, to teach you more would be detrimental, reflect on it. Master the principle.”

Okau bowed her head to Pidge.

“When you are ready,” Okau said. “Return to your Lion, I pray that you remember the Courage of Ashita. Good bye Paladin, all the luck to you.”

“Thank you,” Pidge said. 

Okau stood and left Pidge at the pool, disappearing back into the forest. 

Pidge sat at the water's edge for several more minutes. She watched how the water bubbled and churned in the pool, the dust that glimmered underneath it's surface. When she was ready, she stood and walked back down the mountain.


	20. Still the One

Pidge strode across the field. Pilots that prepped their craft for the coming fight stopped to salute her. The soldiers, who checked their weapons one last time, gave her nods and shouted greetings. They had seen the Green Lion land. They knew what was standing behind them and that made what was standing in front of them, a little easier to swallow.

Pidge found Vara under a tent on the far end of the field, working out logistics with the other rebel officers. Pidge pushed aside the flap and stepped in, the room stopped. Ten officers, including Matt and Ragnok stood around a holo projected map of the capital ship. Most of the officers she didn't recognize, new arrivals Pidge assumed.

“This is the Green Paladin,” Vara said, straightening. “Katie Holt.”

“Pidge, please,” she said. “Were all the objectives reached?”

“We've been joined by four other rebel fleets,” Vara said. “Commander Varn and his lieutenant Rina of the 2nd Quadrant Raiders. Maynatosh and his lieutenant Ackban of the Freedom Fighters in the 8th quadrant. Geogin leads a reconnaissance and sabotage branch on the closed front. Then Frenza and Tye run supply and support for most of the East end of the Galaxy.”

“Thank you all for coming,” Pidge said, approaching the table. She placed her helmet and rifle down, bought from a market she had stopped at on the way. 

“Hunk and I managed to get the data you requested,” Matt said. “Lotor left to run an errand in a stolen Galra fighter. We contacted him only a few dobashes ago and he said he should arrive imminently.”

“Where did he go?” Pidge asked. 

“I'm not sure,” Matt said. “He said it was on a mission you gave him.”

"Now I'm curious,” Pidge said. She spread her hands across the table.“Okay, so, how far into the briefing are we?”

“We were just discussing the ship we'll be using,” Vara said. “The best candidate was this Era 5 Cloycn Cruiser, named the Florarc Pinnacle.”

“I know the Galra name their battleships on ancient mountains from their home world,” Geogin said. “But that's a name.”

“The Pinnacle has the twice the room we need to fit the fleet in,” Frenza said. “The logistics of getting the entire fleet and taking the ship though, is, interesting. The Green Paladin's shut down code will only work for eight hours, in that time we have to take the ship, neutralize any galra threat, and board. However, because the carrier is on it's return run, the bays should be empty.”

“Perfect,” Vara said, she reached out over the holo map and pulled up the Pinnacle's flight path. “Here the Pinnacle will refuel on Tecon 5. Once it's in dark space it'll be safe for us to board because visual confirmation will no longer be possible and with it's communications shut down it'll be incapable of sending a distress signal. Varn, you're a raider, what do you recommend for taking the ship?”

“A small team infiltrates the ship,” Varn said, “And takes the command bridge. Once the ship is shut-down it'll be easy to pick off the remaining defenders with a rush. We can board at these points and trap them in the middle.”

He highlighted five strategic points on the carrier.

“The green lion can cloak,” Pidge said. “So I'll lead the infiltration.”

“Who will you take with you?” Matt asked. 

“I'll go on my own,” Pidge said. “I work best alone on recon.”

“Very well,” Vara said. “Once we're on the ship it's 18 FTL Hours to the Capital. We have to pass three check points on the way. On the edge of Galra territory, at the half-way point, and then another checkpoint at the commander center. Provided we pass all of them, and we should if the codes I retrieved are correct, we'll be in.”

“This is the part of the plan,” Pidge said, as the commander center's model came up on the holo. “That things get tight. There are four rings around the Capital. The Capital is the primary ship here, this is where the war council and Haggar is. We need to take this. The moment the attack is recognized they will raise a shield and we will be trapped.”

“Each ring has a different purpose,” Geogin said. “The far outer ring, or what they call Coln, houses the fighter and primary defense systems, this must be hit first and the hardest, we can't be caught in a bogged down dog fight. My fighters will lead a bombing run on the outer ring the moment we arrive. It'll be the opening attack.”

“Cluhm is the second ring, where we'll be docking,” Vara continued. “It is supply and docking, not a major concern. Vashita, the third ring, is the ring that runs through these gas giants, Fa and Fen respectively. Vashita provides power for the base and the shield, it needs to be taken. Maynatosh, you'll be in charge of capturing Vashita. I'll brief you on your orders later. Veol, the fourth ring closest to the capital is civilian housing and crew quarters.”

“Once Vashita is taken,” Matt said. “Power can be controlled for the entirety of command. Power will be shut off for Veol except for primary life support. Because Galra doors automatically lock when power is lost, that should keep the majority of the population there down until they can be handled at a later point.”

“Hunk and I will be using the Yellow and Green Lion respectively to provide support,” Pidge said. “The presences of the planets and rings allows a unique strategy of movement, divide and conquer is our primary goal. Green is fast and strong enough that we can lead a charge deeper towards the Capital. Hunk will provide cover. However, I will land on the Capital ship here.”

Pidge pointed to a spot on the capital. “From there I will infiltrate the capital, take it's command center and gain full control. I will have control over communication, fleet movements, anything they can do, I can do. Once I have control. It's over, we won. I will kill Haggar and then we'll take hostage the war council. Bada-bing, bada-boom."

“You're making this sound easy,” Frenza said. 

“I never did say it was easy,” Pidge said. ““If we fail to take the capital and set up a fortified position. We will be slaughtered once the Galra retaliate. The success of our mission depends on our speed, resilience, and courage. If anyone of us hesitates in our part, the entire thing falls apart. I also can't promise that everyone is going to make it out alive but the result will be one large stride closer to ending this war.”

“And we'll be the coolest people in the galaxy,” Matt said. “So there's that.”

“The coolest,” PIdge said, and they traded high fives.

“They are siblings,” Vara sighed.

They worked through more logistics, everyone had their part but Pidge left feeling a little reassured that this wouldn't end in a trash fire. She left the tent with Matt who kept stride with her.  
“So what was the secret mission you gave Lotor?” Matt asked. “I'm pretty sure that guy's insane anyway. What's up with you and him?”

“It's a little weird,” Pidge said. She put her hand on her hip. “We spent like an entire week trying to kill each other and decided to try the opposite end of it for kicks. All I asked him was if there were any galra we could sway to our side. I don't know what he's doing, to be honest. Don't tell anyone else that though, they might have heart attacks and where would we be?"

"See, that doesn't reassure me Katie," Matt said, crossing his arms over his chest. They both stepped to the side as a platoon of soldiers passed by, headed to their assignment. "Hunk said you two were getting cozy. I'm not sure that's a great idea."

"It's a little late," Pidge said, "for you to play protective big brother. Don't you think?"

"What does that mean?"

"It's mean I've already had sex, Matt," Pidge said. "That's what that means."

"Okay, okay," Matt said, raising his hands defensively. "I'll drop it."

 

Pidge nodded, satisfied and looked back over the field to see Hunk walking towards them. She strode out to meet him, followed by Matt.

“Where were you?” She asked. “We just had an important war meeting.”

“I was helping load supplies,” Hunk said. “They needed a big strong hero.”

He flexed and Pidge grinned. “Have you reported to Allura today?”

“Not yet,” Hunk said. “I was going to wait for Lotor to come back. Otherwise she might-- No, wait, speak of the devil. I think that's him or I hope it is.”

The camp pricked as the galra frigate flew over the camp, the wind whipping off it rustling the hair and coats. The frigate landed in the northern field. Pidge, Hunk, and Matt walked to the field, pushing through the camp so they'd be the first ones to arrive when the bay doors opened and Lotor strode out. A small contingency of brave souls followed as well, catching onto to the non-worried expressions of the paladins.

Pidge greeted Lotor with a handshake and then wrapped her arm around his neck to pull him into a quick hug. His hands rested on her hips and she grabbed either side of his face to place a kiss on his forehead. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Matt put his face in his hand and his shoulder heavy in a heavy sigh. 

She grinned, “told you.”

“Well,” he said. “You're still beautiful, so I assume your trip was a success.”

“I got some vague Yoda answers,” Pidge said. “So, yeah.”

“I get that reference,” he said. He let go of her waist but she kept her hand on his arm.

“So,” Hunk said, walking up to them. “Where did you go?”

“Just fetched some old friends,” Lotor said. 

Acxa walked out of the bay and onto the ramp, her eyes found Pidge beside Lotor, and they narrowed. She was followed by Ezor, Narti, and Zethrid. Pidge hissed through her teeth and shrunk back several long strides as Acxa walked down the ramp. With no warning, Acxa cocked her hand back and punched Pidge across the jaw. Pidge stumbled, her hand coming up to her face. She held up her hand to stop Matt from continuing the fight. 

“No, no, wait, actually,” Pidge said, “I deserved that. Is there like, a line? Do all four of you need to punch me? I want to get that over with. Can we do it all at once?"

“No,” Zethrid said, clapping her hand on Pidge's shoulder. “We agreed to come along only if Acxa got a solid one on you. I still expect a good sparring match later, a real one.”

Pidge looked up into the wicked grin Zethrid was flashing, shuddered, and said, “ah, man.”

“That means,” Ezor, putting both her hands on Pidge's shoulders, “We're friends now!”

Ezor wrapped Pidge into hug and the somehow managed to rope Acxa and Narti into it too. 

“Ezor, please,” Acxa groaned. 

Pidge had no doubt that Zethrid grabbed them all into a huge bear hug and picked them up, not out of a desire for hugging, but to spite Acxa. Pidge heard a vertebrae cracked before she was put down, feeling a little more awkward and a lot less cool, she patted Ezor on the shoulder. Pidge's hand came to the small of her back and she popped her spinal column back in place before giving Lotor a thumbs-up. Just then, a galra Pidge had never seen before walked down the ship's ramp. He wore a commander's armor but he still offered his hand to Pidge to shake. He was tall and lank with red streaks around his ears. She took his hand with only a half-second of hesitation. 

“Commander Born,” he said. “Previously of the 23rd Special Operations Unit of the 8th Fleet.”

“So, you were fired?” Hunk asked. 

“No,” Lotor said. “Commander Born is an old accomplice of mine, he's been ill content with the state of the Empire for many years now.”

“And excited to put things right,” Born said. “Excited for this chance.”

“So,” Pidge said, “is it just you?”

“All nineteen individuals from the 23rd Spec is here,” he said. “On board.”

“Well, I'm Pidge of the Green Lion,” PIdge said. “And this is Hunk, of the Yellow Lion.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hunk said, shaking Born's hand. 

“Is that what you wanted?” Lotor asked Pidge, wirly. 

“You really know how to treat a girl,” Pidge said. “No one's ever gotten me special operation agents before. What's even better is that I know exactly where you guys can go, we need a strong raiding team for the Third ring. Hunk do you mind introducing them to Maynatosh?”

“Sure,” Hunk said. “C'mon, if people glare at you it's because no one else is purple and they're jealous”

“Oh,” Born said, as he began to follow Hunk

“Then you have a plan,” Lotor said to Pidge.

“It's a plan,” Matt said. “I'm just not sure about Katie infiltrating a galra ship alone.”

“Again with the over-protective big brother?" Pidge asked. "Matt, you're a real stick in the mud and that's not a pun, I can't believe you told on me to Lotor. Didn't I use to beat up your bullies?"

“Punching Rick Mally in 9th grade,” Matt said, “Is not the same thing as this.”

“Take Ezor,” Lotor said. “Since she can turn invisible, she's perfect for any recon mission.”

“Girl mission!” Ezor said, wrapping her arm around Pidge's neck. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“Then, Lotor,” Acxa said. “What are we going to do?”

“I'll be with Pidge on the Green Lion,” Lotor said. “We're going to take care of Haggar. I want you two to join a raiding party of some sort and stick to them. Your knowledge of the command is going to be useful.”

“I couldn't have put it better,” Pidge said to Acxa. ”This is a great place for animosity between Galra and non-galra to get worked out. We have another hour before we leave, make friends.”

Acxa inhaled through her nose, sighed, and said, “If you think that's best.”

"Come with me," Matt said. "I know exactly where you can help."

"And you are?" Acxa asked, as she and Matt left with Narti.

"Pidge's brother," Matt said. 

"Oh, there's another one of her?" Pidge heard Acxa remark before she left ear shot. The horror was evident. 

“Narti is going to weird people out,” Pidge said, “Isn't she?”

“Eh,” Lotor grunted. “She'll be fine.”

He looked down at her, “Can I talk to you?”

“You already are,” Pidge said. 

“Privately,” he said.

“Step into my office,” she said.

She walked behind the frigate and into the woods. The trees here were more scrubs then anything but the yellow and green leaves provided enough cover that she could pretend they had a bit of privacy. Pidge leaned against the trunk of a tree and waited for him to collect his thoughts. 

Having a day or two to not think about him had been nice. Now she could get a second look and see how his hair had been brushed out and pulled back. His armor cleaned. She had never paid attention to how handsome he was, how much she preferred having him there, then not. She could not wait until the war was over and they could both figure out this strange bond between them. Just the taste of driving the car and watching Star Wars was too little, she wanted a whole life of that. There were millions of things she didn't know about him, and a whole laundry list of things he didn't know about her. 

“I want to apologize,” He said. “For how I acted.”

“We're cool about the whole stabbing and kidnapping thing,” Pidge said. "I thought we went over that?"

“No,” Lotor said. “For comparing you to Haggar, for doubting you. That was, not fair, and it came from a place of fear. I've had time to think about what I said and about you, and I've decided. Trust goes both ways, Katie, and I have not trusted you.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I, didn't really think about it, but I understood where you were coming from I guess. I can't even begin to imagine what Haggar did to you. I haven't slept in almost two days because of her and the longer this goes on, the more I just-- God, Lotor.”

The last two words came out as breathless plea. She shook her head, not even sure about where to begin. How could she compare two day to his whole life? Pidge had a family, a brother who cared for her too much and a father who loved her and a mother who understood. What Haggar did to Pidge was bad enough, to do worse to her own son? Lotor pulled her from her thoughts when reached down and placed his hands on her shoulders. He slid his hands up to hold her face, cupping her cheeks with his palms he used his thumbs to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

“Look at this,” Lotor said, his hand coming down to his armor. He took off his gauntlet and then pushed his under suit up to his elbow. Tiny, thin white scars ran up his forearm, dozens of them. “These wounds have healed and I am stronger for them, in my nightmares they open and bleed but every morning they scar over. Haggar has not defeated me and she never will. I am use to her tricks, but you, I'll kill her for causing you to cry.”

Pidge looked down at the scars, and then she looked at Lotor. Between her shoulders blades, on her left hip, her arms, her legs, knicks, scratches, gun shots, sword blades. A couple of them left by him. Never in her life had she been able to look in someone else eye's and been able to level with them. There were no pretenses about how much those wounds hurt and how healing had been harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms wrapped around her waist, they would return to the camp later, ready for the fight, but for that moment, she was just glad he was there.


	21. Feel It Still

Pidge ran her tongue over her teeth as the Green Lion approached the Pinnacle. Pidge lead the lion, hidden in it's cloak, along side the pinnacle easily matching the carrier's speed before placing the lion down on the underbelly of the carrier. Pidge looked up at Ezor as the lion dug it's claws into the metal, securing them.

“You ready?” Pidge asked. 

“Ready,” Ezor nodded. 

“Then let's do this,” Pidge said. 

Pidge stood up from her seat as the Green Lion opened her jaw. Ezor and Pidge jumped out. Ezor wrapped her arm around Pidge's shoulders and used her jump jets to guide them to the surface of the carrier's hull. Ezor unsheathed her blade and cut a hole into the carrier and they slipped inside. Pidge placed a small device beside the cut hole and it projected a diamond molecule barrier, covering it and sealing the breach. 

Pidge looked at Ezor and she nodded. 

They slipped through the hallways, dodging the patrols. Pidge looped the security footage and they made it to the bridge of the ship in no time. Pidge and Ezor stood at the doorway while Pidge hacked the control consol. Pidge looked across at Ezor, counted down from five on her fingers, and then opened the door. 

Ezor blinked out of sight as the commanding officer turned to look at them. Pidge set her stance, pulled her pistol from her hip, and fired into the room. Officers and techs scattered for cover as the shots echoed through the bridge of the ship. Pidge darted left and into the room, returning fire on a tech next to the door. She swept his leg out from underneath him then kicked in his face plate before picking up his body to use him as a shield as she approached the other techs, firing on them as they drew their weapons and started to fight back.

Not a single one of her shots hit but it was enough that she could move onto their position. Pidge struck one tech in the face with her elbow, wrapped her arm around his neck, and then slammed him into the ground over her shoulder. She blocked the punch from another, pulled his sword from it's scabbard and ran him threw with it before turning to parry the coming strike from the last. Pidge grabbed the tech by the elbow, jerked his body out of position and then stabbed the sword into his leg before knocking him out with an elbow.

Pidge twirled the sword as she watched Ezor put a knife through the last guard's throat. “Hey, I like this.”

“I don't think it's really your style,” Ezor said. “C'mon let's run the override.”

“Right,” Pidge said, she jogged to the command console and used the sword to pry open the hatch. She ran the override. “Okay, eight hours.”

“Let's get on it,” Ezor said. 

The fleet dropped out of FTL, the raiders hit first, boarding on the far end of the ship. Ezor and Pidge stumbled as the entire ship rocked with the impact. With the entire ship's primary systems down there were no alarms, the sentries deactivated automatically, and the surveillance was down. The Galra on board where blind and unarmed. That wouldn't stop them from trying to retake the bridge though.

“Alright,” Pidge said, sliding into the captain's seat. She activated the interface. “Let's see what we got here.”

She pulled up the map of the cruiser and then activated surveillance to work for her. It had heat signature of all the galra on the ship, and then all the rebels as they began to board. Maynatosh had boarded in the dead center of the ship, he and the raiders would work their way forward to help secure the bridge. In the meantime Pidge sealed the bridge's door. 

Lotor had attached himself to Matt's team, who were taking the engine room. Vara's ship landed on the Port side of the pinnacle. Pidge marked out his heat signature and found the other generals with ease. She ran her tongue over her lips as she looked over the map. Blind or not, the Galra were great defenders, they knew what to do in a crisis. They grouped together, formed lines of defense, sealed off hallways, all in the span of maybe twenty minutes as the remaining raider fleets exited FTL and began to board the pinnacle. 

“Okay,” Pidge said. “Acxa, the bay to your right, the Galra have set up a line of defense, if you send someone down the hall, they can flank.”

“Got it,” Acxa said. 

“Is that what you do?” Ezor asked as Pidge continued to give directions and call out enemy positions. She leaned over the back of the seat. “Boss people around?”

“When you're the girl with the map,” Pidge said to her. “No one can argue when you're bossy.”

“Ooh,” Ezor said. “Can I try?”

“Sure,” Pidge said. 

“Okay, Lotor,” Ezor said, putting her hand to her throat mic. “You need to take a left at the end of this hallway and go into that door! Pidge'll unlock it for you."

Pidge unlocked the door. 

“Ezor!” Lotor snapped over the comm. “There's an entire platoon in here!”

“And they need to be taken care of!” Ezor laughed. Pidge held out her hand. Ezor stared at it. Pidge pried Ezor's hand from the back of the chair and then placed her hand on Pidge's. “Oh! I know that!"

Ezor and Pidge traded high fives. 

“Where did you learn that?” Pidge asked.

“Hunk taught me before we left,” Ezor said. “He said it's a skill I would need.”

“Lotor,” Pidge asked, into the comm. She zoomed in on the room he was, “Ya dead?”

“Not yet,” Lotor growled. 

“Ah, geez, I'll have to show you Cool Runnings too,” Pidge said, leaning forward in her chair. “You look pretty pinned in there but I have a suggestion. Access panel on far end of room is connected to the engine's static sink, if shot it should release a large electrical burst, just, don't be touching anything metal. I don't feel like having to restart your heart today."

“Got it,” Lotor said.

Pidge watched as not a few seconds later all the Galra enemies in the room blinked out. She continued to do her job properly. Calling out enemy positions, directing the assault teams. Ezor had to fight off a small squad of spec ops while Pidge was personally directing Maynatosh's team to take the engine compartment. It was really fun to be told to duck and have an eight foot Galra sail over her head while having to explain the intricacy of overloading an FTL nav computer.

Finally, the fighting slowed down, by the second hour mark the last of the Galra were rooted out. They were either captured and thrown into the brig, if not killed and then spaced. The ones that were captured were administered massive doses of a drug called Texlavin, which would keep them knocked out for well over forty hours. 

Pidge continued to direct the boarding. The frigates and fighters had to be loaded on the carrier in an order that would make it easy to take-off and land for each of the unique ships. For example Geogin's fighters were fixed winged craft that needed runway and had to be placed in the farthest area back, but on the inside of the strip. Pidge had worked out all the math and order last night, which she had plenty of time to do because she didn't sleep. Lotor walked onto the bridge just at the fifth hour mark. Matt, Hunk, and the other commanders had been on and off, getting orders, or finding the switches for some means they needed. At the moment the bridge was empty. Lotor draped his arm over the back of Pidge's chair. She leaned back, rubbing at her eyes and his fingers brushed through her hair. 

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked.

“More then an hour?” She asked. “A couple days. I've been catching cat naps, like you said.”

“Go catch another one,” he suggested. “And keep doing that. Just be careful not to rest too long.”

“Don't know worry,” Pidge said. “I know what happens when I do. If your mother sneak attack me in my sleep I'll just have to pull the 'ole five point palm exploding heart technique.”

“The what?!”

"Don't worry about it,” Pidge said, standing so Lotor could take her place in the chair. “I'll show you later.”

“I'll take your word for it,” Lotor said. 

Pidge wandered out of the bridge. She went down to the barracks in the lower level of the ship. She folded her jacket up and made it a pillow under head as she laid down on some soldiers bed. She set a timer for twenty minutes, and then another for forty. That's what she did for several hours, catching her twenty minutes before finding something to do for the next forty.

She worked her coding. She went down to the engine rooms and checked on the engines. She helped pilots maintain and fine tune crafts. She didn't always go back to the bed. Sometimes she passed out leaned up against a wall or in the corner of hallway. Haggar was always on the edge of her mind and Pidge could not rest so long as the dark figure remained present. It wasn't so much as Haggar herself, or even the shape of her, but a sense of dread and anxiety that sat in the deepest corner of Pidge's heart and if she gave into it, she had no doubt it would consume her whole. 

It was on a port observation deck, trying to meditate, that Pidge came to her conclusion. It was a simple one. If across a galaxy, Haggar could wear on her mind, whittle Pidge down to the bone, how powerful would she be up close and personal? Zarkon had been no joke. Haggar, would be a terror. She came to a samurai's conclusion.

Pidge opened her eyes, looking out over the ancient stars, many so many miles away they could be gone by now. The sight was unparalleled, space right up and personal, just her. ten inches of diamond molecule glass, and the cold vacuum of eternity. There was no telling how accurate the motto was –martial artists had a propensity for making shit up-- but there was something she liked about the idea.

There were three ends to this ordeal.

Pidge dies and Haggar lives

Pidge lives and Haggar dies. 

Or they both die. 

Pidge refused the first option, to let Haggar live would be a complete failure. Not when Pidge's eyes were heavy with sleep depravity and her mind raced with compulsive thoughts that ran in circles like a dog chasing it's own tail. The hounds had Pidge's scent, the above three results were the only possible.

Either Pidge killed Haggar and staggered out of this, or Pidge assured their mutual destruction. So long as Haggar didn't survive, Pidge would be content with the result. 

When the time came, Hunk messaged Pidge, and she came up to the bridge. When Pidge walked onto the bridge they were beginning the approach towards the command. She yawned, having put her armor and weapons back on. She braced her foot against the stairs down to the command post and checked the knife strapped to her boot. 

Acxa and Lotor were starting the communication chain for the last checkpoint into the command ship. Pidge listened as they quietly debated the channels and passwords they needed to confirm their identification. The bridge was silent, Vara stood in the corner, her arms crossed. Hunk sat on the floor, waiting. 

Pidge hadn't seen the Capital since Allura had been captured. She walked to the front of the bridge towards the front window and she leaned against the dashboard to view it. It was massive, just as it had been four some years ago, but now that she was considering another assault on it, it appeared even more intimidating. She personally understood how tight this was going to be. Seeing it, the rings, the mind-bogglingly large ship.

That thing could never exist anywhere but the cold vacuum of space, there was no engine or drive that could possibly support a ship that large in even the lowest gravity planets. It had little practical benefit, it was a slow dreadnought with big guns that took hours to load and fire and it's teleduv took longer still to operate. It was a display of power, like a peacock spreading it's pretty blue feathers for all to see. 

“Central Command tower 28, this is the Florac Pinnacle, returning from it's supply mission,” Lotor saiid. “Requesting docking number.”

The silence stretched over the room. Pidge drummed her fingers into the dash, pinkie, ring, middle, pointer. Repeat. She didn't turn around, she just waited, her eyes flicked over the rings, they were making a fast approach. The farthest outer ring began to loom before them. The engines had been in reverse for nineteen hours, preparing them for their landing. 

That was something that sci-fi rarely talked about. There was no friction in space. Newtonian physics were generally fucked with the addition of FTL, but the simplicity of the first Law remained true. In order to counteract the thrust of forcing the ship forward, halfway through a trip the engines applied equal force in the opposite direction. Slowing the ship down for a comfortable landing. A good pilot and engineer could do the space equivalent of hitting a pin head with a pea shooter from a kilometer away. Even down to landing their carrier at 0 m/s^2 right into a docking bay on a predetermined flight path from hundreds of light years away.

The tower came back on the line. “Florac Pinnacle, send your identification.”

“Sending identification now,” Lotor said. 

More silence, the feed cut and Pidge's eyes drifted down to her toes. 

“Very good, Florac Pinnacle, welcome home,” the tower said, and Pidge sighed. “Your docking bay will be 239.”

The feed cut and Pidge turned around to see Lotor lean back in his chair. 

“So,” She said, breaking the tension in the room. “We made it.”

“Are we ready?” Vara asked.

“We better be,” Pidge said. She grinned, everyone was looking at her, probably expecting some final comfort but she had none. There was no more preparation, this was happening and she was exhausted. “Well, let's get at it.”

PIdge walked to the elevator as the bridge exploded to life as everyone rushed for their positions. Lotor fell into stride beside her and they stepped in together. Vara would remain aboard and organize the fight. In the elevator Pidge looked up at Lotor, and said, “So is this our first date?”

Since coming on the ship she had only seen him a couple times, and each time he had grown a little more severe. Like there was something hanging over his head or resting on his shoulders, some great weight. An ACME Anvil from a Loony Tunes episode. Now, when she said that he broke into a smile and chuckled, looking down at his feet. 

“I think our dinner on Lina was our first date,” Lotor said. 

“Nope, you had kidnapped me,” Pidge said. “Doesn't count.”

“You called it a date,” he said. 

“How do you remember that?” She asked. 

“And no, this is not a date,” Lotor said. “After tonight, I'm going to take you to Faria 5 and show you the most wonderful evening of your life. I'll positively sweep you off your feet.”

“Promises, promises,” Pidge said.

The elevator doors opened and they strode out into the hangar that housed Green. Pidge traded high-fives with Hunk before climbing into her lion. She sat down in the seat, her hands curling around the control sticks. She closed her eyes. Green was positively vibrating with energy, like a Labrador anticipating a walk or seeing their owner after a several day absence. 

She started her pre-flight preparations, turning on the engines, warming the thrusters. She had a countdown on her bracelet, ten minutes until they were through the second ring. She would lead the charge out. 

“We're only apart of the surprise attack,” PIdge said. “As soon as we can, we're striking the capital. You ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Lotor said. 

“Hold on tight then,” Pidge said. “Cause it's my turn.”

The timer hit and Pidge pushed the control stick forward as the bay doors opened. Green pulled her legs to her chest and darted out of the ship. Pidge smiled as she beelined her lion for the outer ring, she brought up on the computer the schematics of the rings and laid a flight path for the command tower. She hit it dead on, darting the lion past it just as the shot blew through the tower. Pidge curved Green back into the line of the ring, summoned the jaw blade, and then dipped low.

The blade ran along the bay doors, ripping through the doors. It was only when her trajectory become unstable that she pulled away, explosions ripping through a large section of the ring. By then Geogin's fighters had launched and like dragon flies they swarmed towards the ring, following the trail that Pidge had blazed. They split into eight squadrons, twenty each, that began to target different parts of the ring.

Pidge pulled away to get out of their trajectories, letting Green drift on course for just a minute so she could watch the shield close down around the capital. It painted the entire capital ship a harsh purple and started another countdown on them. 

“The First Fleet,” Lotor said, pointing at the groups of frigates, dreadnoughts, and fighters that was starting to organize itself. “The automatic fighters are already deploying.”

“I'm going to put some holes in those dreadnoughts,” Pidge said. She turned Green in towards the rings. Hunk was already flanking on the left side. “We need to keep them off Geogin.”

“They likely won't fire inside the main cannons inside the shield,” Lotor said. “Too much risk of friendly fire.”

Flying into the First Fleet was like flying into the depths of hell itself. Dozens of fighters converged on Green, and she took two hard but glancing hits off the flank, almost tossing Lotor into the port wall. Pidge dove down towards the purple gas giant Fen. The fighters falling into formation behind her. Pidge had memorized various flight paths when under fire like this and she ducked and waved green, spinning her to keep the fighters from catching bead but she knew she was being herded. If there wasn't a change, she'd be caught. Pidge took a deep breath through her mouth, ran some math on her flight nave, and shouted, “man! They really don't like us!”

“You're one of the biggest threat on the field,” Lotor shouted. “It makes sense!”

“Let's see them keep up then,” Pidge said.

She kept tight to Fen as she dove Green under the planet, using the planet's gravitational pull to sling shot her back up towards the underbelly of the First Fleet. She cut right past the fighter's formation, taking out several on her way up before darting into the First Fleet. The primary dreadnought's belly was exposed to her and as Pidge rode out Green's momentum from the gravitational assist. She punched Green's canon and ripped open the bottom of the dreadnought, destroying the engine compartments. Pidge darted past them, and out of the corner of her eye spotted the Fleet's secondary dreadnought. It's ion canon charging for a shot. Pidge cut a beeline for it

Lotor clung to her chair as she charged the dreadnought. The cannon finished recharging, released a hit and she twisted the lion just in time for it to avoid shooting them. Pidge shouted and activated Green's plant cannon, the shot hit the dreadnought's bridge, and vines sprouted over it, disabling their command. Pidge activated the jaw blade again and ran a long, deep scratch along the lower compartments. A quick check on the ship's systems confirmed that she had shut down the primary power to the thrusters. 

“Hunk!” Pidge shouted into the comm as she began to chase down a frigate. “The dreadnought!”

“Got it!” Hunk said. 

From above, having been provided protection to Geogin and the fighters, Hunk flew down to ram straight into the top of the dreadnought. With it's engines compromised and the sudden addition of inertia it had no chance but to start a long fall towards the bottom of the shield. By the time they had any hope of recovery they'd be caught in Fen's field and be hurled into the Third Ring. 

Pidge destroyed the frigate she had been chasing and then pulled the Green on a tight flight path towards the capital. She activated the cloak, seeing the slim opening towards the massive center ship, and decided to take it. They exited the flak and slipped into the inner parts of the capital. 

“So, how are we getting in?” Lotor asked. “You haven't told me your plan?”

“Well,” Pidge said, pulling up the map of the Capital. “Based on the schematics and some intense thought, I decided that the front door would be the best way. Can you tell me the tally for our losses?”

“Three frigates and Geogin's lost several fighters,” Lotor said. “I think the bombing run was a success, it's just a matter if the next phases of the plan will work. They're starting to fight back but we –as you would say-- caught them with their pants down, and I doubt we'll be overwhelmed. What do you mean 'the front door?' Are you going to slow down? Katie!”

Pidge did not slow down, in fact, she crashed through the front window of the ship, spreading huge shards of glass into the front hall of the Capital. Green landed on the floor, her claws scratching huge swaths into the metal to slower herself in time. Soldiers, commanders, and anyone in the way scattered as the lion broke through. Shards of glass, wiring, metal showered down after Green came to a sudden stop. Pidge giggled. An automatic shield popped up over the breech, sealing the vacuum. 

“Knock, knock, motherfuckers,” Pidge said, pulling her pistol from it's holster. She looked up at Lotor, “ready?”

They exited out of the mouth, jumping to the ground. Pidge rolled but Lotor pulled his sword and charged the reforming soldiers. He pushed right into the center of them. Even as Pidge took cover behind a column, he slashed open the chest of a soldier, skewered another, and danced out of the gun fire. He moved fast and acted decisively, it wasn't until a laser impacted right beside her head did she realize she had to stop gawking and start shooting. 

Pidge moved out of cover, arm in front of her face as she charged the soldiers, she fired and then pushed into their midst. Pidge activated her gauntlet, and punched through one's gut, the lighting running through his armor before she shot another in the chest. She caught up to Lotor and they charged down a hallway, he knew this place better then she did.

They fought through the capital, cutting a hard place because if they hesitated for even a second, their chance would be lost and they would be pinned. The exhaustion evaporated from Pidge as adrenaline and the push of the fight pumped into her veins. Lotor lead her into the belly of the Capital, where they vanished in the winding hallways, finding brief cover in the corners and shadows. Ten minutes after landing, they found what Lotor was looking for down a thin hallway in the bowels of the Capital.

They walked up to the door, a solid steel door in the center of the capital ship. The two guards pulled their weapons, Lotor stabbed the right one through the chest and Pidge shot the left one in the face plate. 

“What does the war council do anyway?” Pidge asked as she hacked the command council.

“It was Zarkon's last bid attempt to maintain control over a fractured empire,” Lotor said. “He invented the commanders of each sector to sit on a council that would decide the direction of the empire. Of course he had full vetoing power, but it made them feel important, so it worked.”

Lotor's expression soured. 

“Did not work for me,” he said. “Bunch of quiznacking idiots.”

The door slid open and Pidge fired blind from inside from the doorway. The dozen commanders dropped under the table, arms flying up to protect their faces and shouting in surprise.

“Alright, jackasses,” Pidge shouted as she strode into the room. “I haven't slept in three days and I'm stressed, so I am not in the area of fucking around! Here's how this is going to go: Any of you start shit, I kill you; Back talk me, I kill you; Look at me wrong, I kill you; If you disobey me, I. Will. Kill. You. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the very hard way. Each of you have a bullet with your name on it in this gun, the question is if you're going to claim it?!"

 

A commander stood-up on the far end of the table brandishing a rifle. Pidge shot him in the throat and he collapsed to the ground. 

“Anyone else?” She shouted, she looked around the table, no one else moved. “Butts to seats, pretty please, gentlemen. Hands on the table, I'm a little twitchy right now, so if I see any movement I'm going to shoot at it."

The commanders, all in their later years and many of them never having been on an actual battlefield in their lives, put butts to seats. Pidge smirked but her guard didn't drop. Their eyes widened when Lotor stepped in after her, sword in hand. 

“What is this Lotor?” A commander demanded. “You're the one attacking the capital?!”

“Now, now,” Lotor said, striding up to the table, he sheathed his sword. “We've had our disagreements in the past and I hate that the only way I could get you to listen to me is like this, but we're all here, and under such perfect conditions to talk. Now my trigger happy friend here is nothing but precaution, think of her as not even here.”

“What do you want?” A commander in red armor asked. 

“A mutually beneficial agreement,” Lotor said, pressing his palms into the table. “Now, I can't imagine any of you particullary like Haggar and that all of you want your slice of the pie when things get messy in the empire.”

Silence stretched over the table. Eyes shifted, sweet beaded at temples, armored fingers tapped against metal. Some were considering the knives and guns at their sides. Pidge considered which one she was going to shoot first. 

“It's alright,” Lotor said. “We can talk about it! Let's face it, the tyrannical dictatorship that is the shambles of this government is falling apart at the seams. The alliance encroaches. We're all asking ourselves one thing, what will this mean for the Galra and what will this mean, most of all, for me. I'm offering compromise, to those that'll take it.”

“And what are you offering?” A commander in blue armor asked. Pidge couldn't keep track all of them except by color coding.

“I'm offering that we all go home,” Lotor said. “We're going to go kill Haggar and you all quietly slip back to your little corners of the galaxy then we go from there. You see, things are about to get really bad for you, and I would rather be the one that cooperated, then be the one that caused trouble. You have two options, join us, or, I let Katie take care of you.”

Eyes shifted to her, and she didn't crack under the pressure, her face remained impassive. 

“I'll join you,” the commander in red armor said, standing, his chair scraping against the floor. He walked past the steely glares of his colleagues to go stand beside Lotor, “if you'll have me my prince.”

“It's always good to see you Nicode,” Lotor said. 

Three more stood-up. 

“This war is over,” One said. 

“Better then Haggar,” Another said. 

“That girl frightens me,” the last said, which made him Pidge's favorite. “I stand on whatever side she's on.”

“So that's it!” A galra said, standing. “You all walk away because a child points a gun at you!”

Pidge shot him in the shoulder, he gasped, hand clutching at the wound and he sunk to the floor. The galra beside him looked down at his fallen friend and then looked at her, horror stricken. 

“Rules are clear,” She growled.

“If we act now and together,” Nicode said. “We can make certain the strength of the Galra, preserve our people, our homes! We can build a future for our families!”

Six remained at the table, they looked amongst each other. Two more stood-up, Pidge couldn't believe her eyes, her lips parted as they walked over to join Lotor. It was hard to tell what was going on his head, he was as unreadable as ever but now she was more skilled at finding what was between the lines. He was surprised, but she could sense an unfathomable pride and joy, shock at his own ability. 

One more stood, swayed by the peer pressure. Or maybe he was no longer scared of Haggar. Or maybe he no longer believed in the Empire. Or maybe he was going to stab them in the back when Pidge wasn't looking. Then again, this was what she had been looking for. Reconciliation, compromise, and peace, she had never actually believe it in, she realized, it was an unfathomable prospect for other people, another generation. Lotor, of all people, proved her dead wrong, he didn't just believe in these vague concepts, it was the very foundational bed rock that he stood despite never having known a day of peace in his life. 

“A duel,” the largest of the three said, he sat at the end of the table. “Us three, versus just you Lotor, if you can defeat me and my closest friends, Eonni, and Coquem. I will stand with you until the end of times. My name is Baez and I would be honored to be your opponent.”

“I agree to those terms,” Coquem said. 

“I do too,” Eonni said, she was missing her left ear. A sign of combat that most of the others lacked. A huge scars slashed down the bridge of her nose and white grew out of the tufts of her fur. 

“I'm not sure we have time,” Pidge said to Lotor.

“This is worth it,” Lotor said, drawing his sword. “Right here, right now.”

Pidge, shifted uncomfortably but still stepped back as Lotor jumped on the table. Glasses, data pads, devices, computers were kicked to the side as Lotor ran the length of the table. Eonni stood, drawing a dagger, her foot came to the edge of the table and she kicked it over. Lotor jumped, kicked her in the face before snatching her knife hand.

Pidge had never thought about how strong Lotor was, at least, physically. It wasn't until she watched him restrain a full grown galra female by crushing the armor around her bicep and causing her to cry out in pain, did she consider it. Pidge gapped as Lotor parried Coquem's sword strike, still holding Eonni by the arm. Lotor stabbed Coquem in the foot, and then kicked Baez in the chest so hard he hit the wall. 

Lotor swung Eonni around to elbow her hard in the gut, pulling her into his hit. Pidge felt her teeth grit when she watched Coquem grab Lotor around the waist, and slam him against the back of a chair. They went down swinging, Coquem had almost a foot on Lotor in height and width. Pidge saw the glint of silver but knowing that this was Lotor's fight, she kept her mouth shut and her feet planted. 

The knife cut through Lotor's side but he grabbed the blade and smashed his palm into Coquem's chin. Lotor put the knife to Coquem's throat, pulled him into a choke and then had the sword pointed at Baez's throat before he could join the fight. They stared at each other, catching their breaths, purple blood spilled out of Lotor's side but he didn't even flinch or hesitate. If it hurt at all, Pidge couldn't tell. 

Lotor let Coquem go. He and Eonni quietly walked over to join Pidge's group. Baez and Lotor circled.

“You've talked unity for years,” Baez said. “Since you were this big, at my hip, you wanted oneness. I didn't get it. An idealistic kid with delusions of being as big as his father. Nothing could stand against Zarkon I said to myself, and now he's dead, and we, who have built our lives on him, have no name. There's a Paladin of Voltron in the room and I am not sure of who I am.”

“You were a mentor to me when everyone else spat at my feet,” Lotor said. “Baez, let's finish this as equals.”

Lotor threw aside his sword and Baez attacked. He led in with a fast back hand that caught Lotor across the jaw. Pidge winced as Lotor ate two more punches before returning fire with a hard round kick to the ribs. Lotor twisted over his axis and jumped, he slammed his foot into Baez's chest. He kept in, Lotor punched Baez in the gut twice before hitting him across the face. Pidge grinned as Lotor pressed in and then finished with a hard spinning back fist. 

Baez collapsed to the floor and Lotor wiped blood from his mouth. 

Baez quickly regained consciousness, and asked as Lotor pulled him to his feet, “Where did you learn that?”

“I learned it from her,” Lotor said, gesturing at Pidge. He looked at Pidge, completely, “all of it from her.”

“Okay,” Pidge said. “Now that you're done with your cock fight, we need to go. Pick the ones you trust, the rest we're locking in here.”

“You are?” A commander asked. 

“Back talk me and I shoot you,” Pidge said.

“Nicode, Baez, Eonni, Coquem,” Lotor said. “Otherwise I agree with you.”

Pidge didn't take a full breath into they were standing outside the room as the door closed behind them. She routed all power from the room, activated an EMT wave that would shut down all communications, and then shot the control panel. They stood in the dark, quiet hallway. She leaned against the wall, clutching at her pounding chest, and taking deep breaths to regain her sanity.

“See,” Pidge said, turning on Lotor. “I thought that we were just going to kill them.”

“You're aggression probably actually helped,” Nicode said. “What is even happening?”

“Suicide run to take the capital,” Pidge said, “speaking of which, excuse me.” She put her finger to the comm on her throat and walked past them down the hall. “Hunk, what is going on?”

Just as she said it, the lights in the ship went off and Pidge stumbled as she felt the primary engine shut off. The entire ship shook. 

“We uh, just blew up Vashita,” Hunk's voice crackled over the comm. 

“You blew it up?!”

“Maynatosh is dead,” Hunk continued. “We've lost all but five frigates, we're holding for now, but you need to do your bit and quick or we're going to be down to the bone. We need to shut off the fighters.”

“You blew it up?!”

“I just said that.”

“How?” She demanded. 

“Ionic shot straight into the primary turbine connected to Fa,” Vara said. “Set off a massive chain reaction, the entire ring is falling apart. There won't be any power to any of the ship.”

“What about life support?” Pidge asked.

“The capital and all of Veol,” Lotor said. “Have back-up generators that should keep life support going for several days. In the long term it's problem but the civilians, and us, should be fine for now."

“Well, crack an egg,” Pidge said, running her hand through her hair. 

Pidge looked back at Lotor, flanked by his new friends. Her eyes met his and she had a sense that she still didn't really know him at all. She still grinned, glad that things will remain interesting, and asked, “ready?”

“Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEIfp1Uvoqc  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NL7nLSSSWjw  
> These are the movies Pidge are referencing. Careful, both of these include clips at the end that count as spoilers. Although the title of Kill Bill, is of itself, a spoiler.


	22. Come Into My Head

Pidge strode out across the bridge and slid into the command seat just as Lotor dispatched the last drone. Taking the bridge was a lot easier with six people rather then what it would've been with just four. She entered her kill command, suspending what little operation remained in the ship. 

Pidge watched the automatic fighters drop out of the sky and the two sides begin to find their defensive niches. The rebels had taken shelter behind Fen and the Galra fleet behind Fa. There they would try to snipe each other and the Galra had two dreadnoughts with a powerful primary cannons. It wasn't pretty but Hunk was still flying strong. They had hunkered down for the long haul and with the swarm of fighters down, the rebels had a chance to last. 

“Question,” Pidge said. “Where is Haggar?”

“Throne room?” Eonia suggested.

“I haven't heard from her since we were moved to the bunker,” Nicode said. “Praises for that.”

“Will she take part in the battle?” Pidge asked. 

“Haggar is not interested in battles and strategy squabbles,” Lotor said. “I doubt she cares about what happens to the empire now that Zarkon is gone.”

“Then she knew this was happening!” Cauqum said. “Damn witch.”

“She couldn't've known exactly what our move was going to be,” Pidge said. “This was pretty aggressive.”

“We had no warning,” Eonia said. “It was just one moment everything was quiet and then suddenly there's a fleet in the center of the capital.”

Pidge flinched when she felt it. The shadow that passed over her very soul. Chilling down to the bone. She looked down a side hallway, her eyes incapable of adjusting to the full darkness. 

“Katie?”

Pidge looked at Lotor and caught his eyes. 

“I know where she is,” Pidge said. 

“Wait,” Baez said. “Are you sure you want to face her? Out of fear the entire war council cowered under her tyranny. We might be better to flee.”

“Can you tell the fleet to stand down?” Pidge asked. “We can stop the fight here.”

“I suppose we could,” Eonia said. "It just depends on if the commanders don't call our ruse."

“That's what we need you to do,” Lotor said. “To run from fear is not the Galra way, we will stand firm before her. More then that we have no choice. She has to be stopped. We'll see how strong she is when we're no longer afraid and she doesn't have a fleet or war council to control us with.”

“Good luck, Prince,” Baez said. 

“She's in the throne room,” Pidge said to Lotor as they turned away from the others. “Waiting for us, very polite.”

“Then we shouldn't leave her waiting,” Lotor said.  
.   
Lotor lead the way and Pidge followed. The path to the throne room was clear, with the sentries shut down and the soldiers ordered by their commanders to stand down, the capital was theirs. Some still resisted, refusing to give in to the enemy despite their leaders orders, but they were disparate. Yet, Pidge wasn't able to say that the day was won.

They door to the throne room was left open and they walked in. Pidge marveled at the high, arching ceiling that stretched hundred of feet above them, the simplistic but menacing shapes of metal, and the long, imposing walk to the foot of the dais. She looked out the tall window that ran parallel to the room, and noticed that the dreadnoughts had slunk out from behind Fa, flashing blue lights of surrender. 

Haggar sat at the foot of the dais, her elbows against her knees, hood down. Pidge and Lotor stopped thirty feet from her. The shadow in the back of Pidge's mind grew longer as if the sun was setting on the day. Haggar rooted deeper, peeling back layers that Pidge didn't even know she had, secrets, lies, anger, sadness, the primal roots of her humanity. 

“It's over,” Lotor said. “We have control of the capital. Surrender Haggar.”

“You think I care for the petty politics of shattered empire?” Haggar asked as she stood. “My plans go beyond this. I know about your attempt to cross through the gate at Daibazzal, Lotor, I know that you failed.”

“The what?” Pidge asked. 

“Remember when Voltron passed through the rift to the other reality?” Lotor asked. “I attempted the same, in hopes of harvesting quintessence, but it failed. That was, almost a year ago.”

“You were correct,” Haggar continued, circling around them, she pulled her hood on over her head. “There is untold power beyond the gate but your approach was incorrect. Even if you could've harvested it, what would you have used it for? To defeat Emperor Zarkon? To defeat me? Don't make me laugh, I have mastered quintessence and magic in a way you could never understand.”

“I think I can fathom it,” Pidge said. 

“You're making an offer?” Lotor asked. “You think I would accept your help after all that you've done to me?”

“I'm not offering it to you,” Haggar said, she turned to Pidge. “Paladin, I see your potential. You strive to understand the very lions that you pilot but can't even connect fully to them due to the inhibition of your own weakness. I can show you the true answers, and lead you to the power you want.”

“You want,” Pidge began, “To teach me?!”

“Your mind is primitive and weak,” Haggar said. “You are bound by chains of hesitation, I can set you free and you can realize the true potential of the universe. I see now why Lotor was a failure, he did not have the strength to overcome his limitations, but you do. You need only come with me.”

“And what?” Pidge asked. “Turn my back on friends and family, on the war?!”

“Forget the war,” Haggar sneared. “I was once like you, young, blind, a fool playing politics to get her research funded a few months longer. These, fights, amongst men over territory advances us nowhere, when the true power and knowledge is sitting just out of reach. Peace is found, when all is known.”

Pidge's lips pulled back from her teeth. Something had dragged her several steps toward Haggar, not her own will. It was like a line, pulling on her soul. Behind her was something unseen and invisible, pulling her the opposite direction. She could be torn in two.

Lotor suddenly darted forward, drawing his sword to slash at Haggar. She vanished and the line snapped, Pidge's mind cleared and she dropped to one knee. She pressed her fingers into the cloth under her armor, letting the pain resharpen her senses. She cussed under her breath as Lotor came up beside her and touched her back. 

“Brain shit,” she growled, “Where the hell did she go?!”

“Don't let her get to you,” Lotor said, moving so his back was to Pidge's. “That's what she wants. She wants you to see her side, to give in to her influence so she can corrupt you.”

“What about you?” Pidge demanded.

“She wants me dead,” Lotor said, “Very, very, dead.”

Haggar appeared ten feet from them. Pidge shot her and the apparition vanished. It then multiplied, shifting the shadows of the dark throne room. Pidge and Lotor moved together. She struck through an apparition, shot another, and then dodged the strike of one narrowly. Lotor cut through an apparition, only for it to be replaced by another. 

Pidge over extended herself on a punch and then something hit her square in the chest, sending her sliding across the floor. Pidge rolled to her feet only for an apparition to appear behind her and grab her by the back of her armor. She was lifted up off the ground and then slammed down into the floor. It was Lotor, he switched his grip to her throat and then slammed her back down into the floor. She gagged for air as her ribs burned.

“Are you kidding me?!” She hissed as he lifted her up off her feet by her throat. His eyes glowed gold in the dark, and Pidge felt like nothing but a trapped bird, fluttering useless against it's cage. 

Suddenly, Lotor attacked Lotor. The fake Lotor vanished into a cloud of smoke and Lotor caught Pidge by the waist before she hit the ground. She coughed and hacked as his arm came down to support her. Lotor left her side and she looked up to see him charge at Haggar.

He swung low, almost catching her but Haggar needed to only sidestep. Lightning ran on her finger tips and she shot it at Lotor but he slid to his knees to slash at her legs. He cut through a layer of robe, stood, and stabbed at her gut. Haggar vanished and Lotor jumped into the air and flipped in time to avoid the next slash of magic she threw at him. 

Lotor stuck the landing but the sword was knocking out of his hand with a blast of magic. Haggar's nails glowed a bright purple and she slashed at him. Lotor dodged, stepped around her and smashed the palm of his hand against her side. Haggar cried out and Pidge could hear the crack of ribs, she was so brittle. Before Lotor could strike again though, Haggar struck him across the chest, cutting five deep and long gashes into him.

“Lotor!” Pidge screamed. 

She pushed herself to her feet and ran to him. Pidge's hands came to his face, wiping sweat from his cheeks before she put her hands over his chest. The nails had cut right through his armor and into his flesh. He breathed weakly in, his eyes didn't focus. The wounds still glowed a bright purple that burned his skin. Pidge didn't even know where to start to help him. 

Haggar waited for Pidge to look up at her. Pidge could feel the contempt, the disappointment rolling off her. Pidge looked back down at Lotor, brushed hair from his eyes, and then laid him back down gently onto the ground. Pidge stood, planting herself between Haggar and Lotor. Her shoulders rolled back as if to wait for Haggar's next move. 

“You can save him,” Haggar said. “The choice is yours.”

“Blah, blah, blah, blah,” Pidge growled, making flappy mouths with her hands. “Can you spare me the 'turn to the dark side!' Mumbo jumbo and just cut to the chase, already, please? Your voice is so grating I would rather you just kill me then have you talk me to death.”

Haggar gathered lightning in her hands, it crackled and spat, like a contained storm. It hit Pidge like a truck, throwing her off her feet and into the ground. Pidge cried out as the magic ran into her skin, burning off layers of her clothes, heating her armor until it pinched against her flesh. Pidge dropped to her knees, hands hitting the metal floor, gasping, tears running down her cheeks, dried to salt. The magic let up and she collapsed, gasping. 

“Buckets,” Pidge said, as she pressed her leg underneath her in a feeble attempt to stand. 

The second blast of magic hit worse then the first. Pidge fell to the ground, curling up helplessly as Haggar pushed it through her body. She let up for a second, and then it hit again. Pidge's screams echoed through the throne room, tortured and broken, her literal nightmares taking form in a horrendous reality. The pain and agony ripped through her chest and drowned out rational thought. 

Water flows downhill, the bucket carries it back to the top, and the water flows downhill, the bucket carries it back to the top, and the water flows downhill, the bucket carries it to the top...

Ad infinitim.

Pidge rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her forearm against the floor as Haggar hit her again with the magic. She gasped and choked, when it released this time. Weakly her fingers curled around the latches for her armor. The chest plate fell against the floor and she undid her gauntlet with shaking fingers. She collapsed again when another round magic hit her. Pidge rolled over on her back and moaned, her hand clutching at her burning chest.

There was something else, the second line. Green, prowling on the edge of Pidge's subconscious. Pidge reached out for her lion, begging for Her ancient and powerful strength. There was nothing left in Pidge, she had no strength physical or mental. If she had the means she would've killed herself then if just to make the pain stop. At rockbottom, Pidge found a connection deeper and more profound then she had ever reached. It sang in her blood.

“Okay,” Pidge gasped, flipping back onto her hands. She pressed herself to her feet and stood, hands raising to a fighting position. She spat, and spread a grin across her face. “Let's try this one more time.”

Haggar hit her again but this time, Pidge tugged hard on her bond with The Green Lion. She could feel how that line vibrated and shook, like a guitar string, trembling after a delicate pluck. When the magic hit her, Pidge put no opposite to it, she let it enter her body, the heat still burned but she dropped her stance, planted her feet. She could feel it run through her chest, along the line, traded it between her and Green, it was too large for her alone to bear, but between the two of them, they could manage it. 

Pidge lowered her stance even farther. She brought it up from deep in her core, the muscle of her gut and of the strength of her heart. The back of her hands pressed against each other, as if she was dividing the magic into two perfect halves. She brought her hands level with her eyes, clenched them into fists and screamed out as she threw her hands behind her. 

The magic was thrown from her body in a burst of green that spread from each of her fists, dissipating harmlessly into the air. Pidge breathed raggedly, her chest heaving. 

“I got you figured,” Pidge said.

Pidge ran at Haggar. Haggar summoned magic to her hands, it burned bright but when it hit, this time Pidge stretched out her hand to meet it. Once again she passed it on her bond, tossed it to Green and back. She moved forward fast, pressing the magic between them, until Pidge's hands covered Haggar's. 

Pidge grasped Haggar's wrists. Her hood had fallen off and their eyes met, the magic flowing between them as ineffectual as water. Pidge froze, something imperceptible stopping her from moving farther. They were stalemated. Haggar was yanking hard on the reigns in Pidge's mind, left unattended by Green. All that fear and anger she had left unattended in the past years washed over her. 

Pidge lowered her head, growling in her throat, then let it pass. She let the emotions wash over her, so many they were almost debilitating. Haggar fingers wrapped around Pidge's wrist, her nails dug into the exposed skin of Pidge's arm. Pidge growled, her knees weakening at the sudden pain. Haggar pushed on her harder and Pidge's knees hit the floor. 

Suddenly, the pressure, the magic, it stopped. Pidge looked down and a blade stuck out of Haggar's chest. Her lips parted ineffectually and she collapsed, sliding off Lotor's blade to fall at his feet. Lotor had removed his chest armor, his under suit cut open to his gut, his hand pressed over the wounds ineffectually as blood seeped between his fingers. 

Pidge fell to her hands and knees gasping. Then she sat back on her heels, and said. “You really came in clutch, didn't you?”

Lotor looked down at her, his lips parted, and his eyes half-glazed over. His knees buckled and she caught him around the waist even as he began to sink. They stumbled and then Pidge got her feet underneath her to steady their weight.

“Hunk,” she said over the comm. “Haggar is dead, but Lotor is hurt, I need an evac now.”

“Where are you?” Hunk asked. 

“The Throne Room,” she said. “There's a docking area about two floors down, I'll send you the location.”

“Got it,” he said. 

“Okay, Lotor,” Pidge said. “We gotta move.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. He was still looking down at Haggar's fallen body. “She's dead.”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, looking up at him, “she is.”

Step-by-step they made it down to the dock, there they collapsed. Pidge laid Lotor out on the floor and she sat, breathing heavily, arm draped over her knee. She closed her eyes but opened them when Lotor's hand curled around her wrist, she looked down at him and smiled. He smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! That's the climax and end of the main story. There's a small epilogue that'll be posted tomorrow, and then we're done!   
> Thank you very much to all of you have shown your support and love. It's much appreciated!


	23. Call It Dreaming

Pidge pulled the parking break for the mustang in front of the cemetery, and pushed open the door. She walked around to the trunk, opened it, and handed Matt a sledgehammer. Matt took the sledgehammer.

“Okay, I'll bite Katie,” Matt said. “What are we doing?”

“You'll see,” She said.

She led Matt through the cemetery, past rows of old gray graves, some washed away with time and blooming flower trees. It was a small cemetery, behind a Methodist church in the town near the farm house. They didn't have to go far. Pidge stopped them in front of the grave. She looked at Matt to gauge his reaction, he started to laugh, his hand coming up to his face.

 **Matthew Aaron Holt**  
**October 17, 2017- May 26, 2036**  
**“To Him who made the great lights,**  
**For his lovingkindness is everlasting.”**

“I can't believe Mom put my favorite Psalm on my grave,” Matt said. “How was the funeral?”

“It was pretty nice,” Pidge said. “Rabbi Sweeny said some nice words. I cried.”

“Damn, and after all those times you threatened not to,” Matt said.

“Dad's already done his," Pidge said. "And the guys and I we took care of Shiro's last week. So you're the last one.”

“So, that's what this is for?” Matt asked, hoisting the hammer in his arms.

“Oh, yeah,” Pidge said.

“Why did you,” Matt began, “Why did you keep looking?”

“I just knew,” she said, she looked down at the grave. She looked back at Matt and Smirked, “And I'm not usually wrong.”

“Oh, shut-up.”

Matt took the first swing. The hammer smashed into the top of the grave, cracking the granite. Pidge took the next hit, shattering off a huge chunk. They demolished it, laughing, competing to see who could destroy more. They hunted down the rubble and smashed that too. Till they were breathless and grinning, and satisfied.

Matt looked at his watch.

“We gotta get ready for the wedding,” Pidge said.

“This was nice,” Matt said, looking at his demolished tombstone.

“Let's not do it again?” She suggested.

“Yeah.”

_____

When Lance asked about her dress, she had given him a flippant response, so he had picked it out for her. So, she couldn't be upset at the result.

Four inch dark green sparkly stilettos. A backless forest green halter top gown with a slit up the side that clung to her hips like cling wrap and had also been accosted by glitter obsessed four year old. The red glass dangly earrings and the gold chain necklaces added a touch of color. Pidge had to recruit Mom's help to pick out the dark pink lipstick, foundation, and mascara. She even put a few braids in Pidge's shoulder length hair. The white opera gloves were Pidge's chose though, some scars didn't need to be shown off.

Sexy, still her style, but still a level of performance above her usual.

She sat in wood arm chair in the Narthex of the chapel watching Hunk, wearing a silk black suit with a yellow tie poke at his gelled up hair in the mirror. Pidge popped the bubble gum in her mouth. The pastor, the very one that had baptized Hunk was a baby, had a tendency to ramble and no doubt he was sharing all the juicy, embarrassing details about the young groom.

“Hey, Hunk you're going to miss the cue babe,” Lance said. He also wore a black suit but a blue tie. However, he also wore a diamond tiara in his hair, which had grown out in the past two years long enough that he could pull it into a curly ponytail. Pidge didn't know if the tiara was a joke or not.

It made him look nice at least.

“You know,” Pidge said, standing, she hooked her arms in Lance and Hunk. “If you told me seven years ago I would be walking you two idiots down the aisle I'd laughed you out of the Garrison.”

“I thought you already did that,” Hunk said.

“This is your fault,” Lance said. “We wouldn't've hooked up if you hadn't slept with me.”

“You're welcome," she said.

When the violin playing started the doors to the chapel swung open, pulled open by two of Lance's younger cousins. One of them was the flower girl and the other the ring boy. They followed after Pidge, Lance, and Hunk a few steps back. Pidge looked up at the altar where Lance's older brother was playing what was distinctly the Star War's theme. They walked up the aisle, Lance was crying halfway up and Hunk was grinning like a fool.

Pidge seperated from the boys at the altar and took her position beside Shiro at the foot of the apse steps. Keith stood by Shiro, and Allura and Coran stood on the opposite side of the church. Pidge winked at Allura who gave her a small thumbs up, congratulating her on managing to walk so far in the heels.

“I can't believe Lance agreed to such a small ceremony,” Pidge said to Shiro. She looked out at the slam packed right side of the church pews, Lance's huge family spilled over into the left. Hunk's was substantial but Lance had invited every third cousin. In the back row she found Colleen, Mat, Sam, and Lotor, Acxa, Narti, Ezor, and Zethrid taking up their own little pew. Their alienness hidden via holographs. She raised a hand to them.

“Yeah, well he got to plan the after party,” Shiro whispered back.

The vows were short, sweet, and swift, yet hit with a poignancy that only two men who had been fighting for their lives could hit. There had been many close calls over the years. Many times Pidge had thought she had lost either Hunk or Lance. Had seen them hit rock bottom. The simple promise to protect and love felt like a declaration eternity. The war had been won, the peace treaty signed.

There were so many loose ends to tie-up, Pidge would spend the rest of her life finding them, and she would be back out in space in a few months to chase them. Lance and Hunk would settle down, start whatever life they had missed. For now, Pidge glimpsed something she never thought she'd get to see.

And then they made out for a solid minute and she got to yell at them about wanting cake.

Pidge was demanded for pictures. Pictures that included Lance and Hunk lifting her up on the shoulders, hugging, weird poses, and even Keith giving her bunny ears. They walked to the reception arms around each others waists, teasing Lance and Hunk, cackling, trailed by family members, and loved ones. Pidge never thought she'd get this.

The reception was on the beach of Hawaii, which something else. The sun was setting over the horizon, panting the sky oranges and purples that only Earth could attain. Underneath a pavilion a dance floor had been set up and waiters served hor d'oeuvre from recipes that Hunk had cooked up over the years. There was an excessive amount of alcohol. Kids played soccer on the beach.

Pidge found Lotor sitting at the Holt family table, fiddling with a rubix cube. He had three sides completed and was struggling with the last two. At some point in the night someone had put a lei around his neck. With the holo on and wearing a nice purple suit, he looked like a million bucks.

“So how has the island been treating you,” she asked, sliding into the seat opposite him. “Since I abandoned you?”

“It's a lovely place,” Lotor said, putting the cube down.

She pointed at it questionably.

“One of Lance's siblings gave it to me,” he said, “He asked me if I could solve it."

“Any luck?” She asked.

“I've been trying for five days and this is all I've managed,” He said. “I'll get it though.”

“No doubt,” Pidge grinned.

“Hmm, I believe you owe me a dance.” Lotor said, as he stood, he offered his hand to her.

“Since when?” She demanded, put her hand in his.

Sam appeared from behind Lotor and clapped his hand on his back, “Sorry, son, Dad gets the first dance of the evening.”

Lotor raised his hands in surrender and stepped back to let Sam take Pidge's hand. He pulled her to her feet and she winked at Lotor as Sam lead her out to the dance floor just as slow enough song started. Sam placed his hand on Pidge's hip and they swayed in something that could be considered in time.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pidge noticed that Lance was dancing with his mother and actively crying while doing it. Pidge grinned and looked back up at her father. He had put weight back on, built in muscle mass. He ran a marathon last night and he was completely retired. Doctor Holt occasionally taught classes at universities across the planet and Pidge couldn't begin to understand the depth of his years in slavery, but every now and again the crack seems to narrow.

“I did this with you at your kindergarten graduation,” Sam said. “When you were only at my hip. You danced on my toes.”

“You don't want me to do that in these shoes,” Pidge grinned. “I can't believe this, it's so, nice?”

“I remember your mother's and mine's wedding,” Sam said. “Not as many people but our families aren't so big."

“Yeah, I wish I could've been there.”

“You're awful funny,” he said. “That's okay, you can go to your own wedding.”

“If I have one,” Pidge grinned.

“I can think of a candidate,” Sam said. “He's not what I expected you to bring home but I honestly can't imagine anyone better.”

“He's learning to argue with me,” Pidge said. “It's great. We're good partners.”

“I'm so proud of you, Katie,” Sam said. “You have good friends.”

They finished out the dance, and Pidge separated from Sam with a flourish and a twirl. She noted that Lotor had been caroled from his table and Lance was trying to teach him to tango. PIdge grinned and walked over to the bar where Allura and Shiro occupied two stools. Spread out in from of them were several empty shot glasses, and as Pidge walked over, they took another round. Shiro's hand pressed against the counter and his cheeks were flushed a bright red, Allura looked unfazed.

“It's a little early to be doing shots,” Pidge said, putting her hand on her hip.

“Allura challenged me,” Shiro said. “I intend to win.”

“What round are you on?” Pidge asked.

“Five,” Allura said. “Your alcohol is very strong, I love the flavor.”

“You might be the only one,” Pidge grinned.

“Join us Pidge!” Allura demanded as she and Shiro each took another shot.

“I don't drink,” Pidge said. “Shiro, you know this isn't a fight you're going to win right.”

“I have muscle mass and pride, Pidge,” he said. “I got this.”

“That's not how this works,” Pidge said. “But good luck.”

She departed from the bar and wandered over to the table where several of Lance's younger relatives were teaching the generals how to play Uno. Narti had the least amount of cards, Zethrid and Acxa had a normal amount, and Ezor seemed to have half the deck. They wore various colored dresses, their holos changing their skin to the tans and browns of humans, making their ears rounded and their features softer. Narti still wore sunglasses and Zethrid's 'hair' was untamable.

“You know,” Pidge said, leaning against the back of Ezor's seat. “You're supposed to get rid of the cards?”

“You are?!” Ezor asked, the children giggled and then busted out laughing. “No one told me!”

“Uno is Spanish for 'one',” PIdge said. “When you get down to one card you say 'uno' and then you can put your last card down and win.”

“You guys suck!” Ezor growled. “Anyway, you look super cute.”

“Thanks,” Pidge said. “You're not too shabby yourself.”

“Humans throw grew parties,” Zethrid said, she was halfway through a bottle of vodka and based on the ones underneath her chair, this was not her first. “Your alcohol is great.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Pidge said. “Acxa, enjoying yourself?”

“This game is capricious,” Acxa muttered, her hand rubbing over her chin. “I've yet to find a winning strategy.”

Pidge ended up playing two rounds with them before Lance gathered her to return to the dance floor. Pidge danced until she sweaty and hot and panting with the exertion. She ended up dancing with Keith, their natural partnership keeping toes safe and putting them right on rhythm. Hunk once lifted him clear over his head and Shiro –who was dead drunk-- now had about eight minutes worth of blackmail material on him. Pidge spent a lot of time dancing with Allura. Somehow Allura had consumed just enough alcohol that anytime Pidge twirled her or tried to show her an intricate Earth step, she just started giggling until she doubled over.

When parents started to usher kids home and the older folks turned in, they began to prepare for a night on the town. Pidge, while bidding farewell to her parents, looked out across the beach and noticed the dark figure standing at the water line, just out of the waves. Hours ago she had slid off her shoes and now she hiked the edge of her skirt up to venture across the soft sand.

He had dropped his suit jacket and the tie at some point in the night, the top buttons of his dress shirt were popped and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Pidge approached him slowly from behind and put her hand on his elbow. Lotor moved his hand off his hip and wrapped it around her shoulders as a cooling wind pushed out from over the water. The ocean kept a gentle, lapping time, threatening their toes and rolling and roaring in the way it had for eras.

“Having fun?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” Pidge said, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Lotor said. “You look beautiful every night.”

“I think I owe you a dance.”

Lotor shifted so he was facing her. He placed his hand on her hip and she placed her hand in his. She put her hand on his shoulder and they started to sway to the gentle rhythm of the ocean's tide. Pidge hummed contentedly and found his bright yellow and blue eyes, almost gleaming under the moonlight.

“What do you call this?” She asked. "Us?"

“You've called me brother before,” he said. “Although, you're not actually my siblings, we don't share our parents, but we're not being literal are we? You're an excellent friend. Teacher? Enemy once. The Galra have a term for us, it's Tyno, it means a bond beyond romance or sex, deeper then friendship, and rich with a simple love.”

“I like that,” Pidge said. "Do you think we could get married?"

Lotor stepped on her toe. Pidge swore and broke away from him, it took him several moments to coax her into trusting him enough for them to resume their odd little dance.

“I suppose,” he said. “Marriage is usually reserved for couples but I can see some financial and political benefits we could reap out of it. And this wedding was fun, I enjoyed myself more then I anticipated."

“Yeah, weddings are really fun.”

“I'm not sure we should get married over that,” Lotor said, he paused mid-sway to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into a side hug. “I don't think we're ready, not yet, or maybe I'm not. I don't care what we are Katie, all I know is that I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said.

Lotor picked her up by the waist and spun her through the air before stopping putting her down. She wrapped her arms around her neck and they pressed their foreheads together, laughing at nothing. They spent several more minutes watching the ocean, arms around each other, before Pidge grabbed Lotor by the hand and pulled him back to the pavilion.

“C'mon!” She said. “I'm going to show you the arcade!”

Nothing was ever going to be perfect, or even, 'okay'. There would be more close calls as the years went by. Sometimes the future was overwhelming and too much, the trauma of her past would always haunt her. As they entered into the light of the pavilion and greeted their gathered friends, Pidge was quite certain though, that this at least, was good.


End file.
